How To Be A Rogue
by Amberstar of Thunderclan
Summary: AU. The Lazarus Project fails. When the Commander fails to turn up to save a certain Turian, a mysterious band of strangers steps in, and offer Garrus a job he can't refuse. Lives are at stake, and with one old friend dead and others unreachable, he must become the spearhead against the Collectors. Can he even possibly hope to finish what was started two years ago?
1. How to Be a Rogue

_In which it all begins..._

* * *

 **One month after the devastating geth attack on the Citadel, the galactic community struggles to rebuild.**

 **The alliance fleet made a tremendous sacrifice to save the Citadel Council and earned humanity membership in their prestigious group. Now the Council is forced to respond to evidence that the Reapers - enormous machines that eradicate all organic civilization every 50,000 years - have returned. To quell the rumors, the Council has sent Commander Shepard and the Normandy to wipe out the last pockets of geth resistance. Officially, they blame the invasion on the geth and their leader, a rogue Spectre.**

 **But for those who know the truth, the search for answers is just beginning...**

_Sahara Shepard was flung into something hard and painful as the blast cut through the ship, and for a few, heart-stopping moments, he was stunned, and all she could do was float. More explosions, getting flung out further, watching her home burn._

 _She hoped everyone had gotten out safe. She remembered seeing Tali and Wrex. The Quarian had been in a right state, the Krogan pulling her along with one arm around her shoulders. He was a tough, mean old warrior, but everybody knew that Tali was his favorite. Maybe it was because of the shotguns. She'd been hysterical, and Shepard had only caught a few of the words, but from what she'd understood, the first blast had destroyed the MAKO, and everything around it._

 _"If Garrus had been here... if-if-if he'd still been there..." whatever she'd said next had been lost in the next bout of explosions. The thought of it had made Sahara's blood chill._

 _The former C-Sec officer had left a week prior, to apply for candidacy to the Specters. A bittersweet farewell; they'd all known they would see him again. But if he'd still been on board... tinkering with that damn MAKO like he usually was..._

 _She was, for the first time, glad he had left. She_ knew _Kaiden made it out, she was so glad... that just left Liara..._

 _He breath caught in her throat. Or rather, it didn't. She couldn't breath! She could hear a vile hissing behind her head, the back of her helmet, her oxygen venting. She tried to activate her omnitool, she could slather some omnigel on the tube... the tool flickered, faded. Damaged, too damaged. Gasping, vision going dark, she reached behind herself desperately, clutching, trying to find the leak, hold it shut._

 _Damn! She couldn't feel anything with gloves on... stupid gloves! She always hated glove, they made everything impossible. She couldn't feel the leak... they gave her sausage finders... so she... she couldn't press buttons correctly... she was dying because of gloves..._

 _Gloves killed Commander Sahara Shepard._

 **And those answers will shake them to the very core.**

* * *

 **Two year Later...**

The Illusive Man threw his ashtray in a fit of frustration and rage, sending it skittering across the floor. He glared at it after it settled, glinting in the light of his holo-background.

They had failed.

He'd just got off a conversation with Miranda Lawson. Commander Shepard's brain had liquefied upon trying to awaken her. Project Lazarus was a failure; they needed a hero _now_ , and reconstructing Shepard's brain from scratch would just take too long; a whole two years more, perhaps!

He turned his glare towards one of the holographic screen interfaces near his chair. Another thing to be incredibly angry about. Earlier, though he was keeping it quiet, someone, or a group of someones, had hacked into the Cerberus data base. And what had they stolen?

Everything on Project Lazarus. And then some; all the dossiers he'd gathered for the dream team he'd wanted Shepard to assemble, all the information about the new Normany-modeled ship they had built, and the crew they had assembled for her. Then, they'd deleted everything on their way out! They had left one thing, though. Three words.

Rogue Thanks You.

He hadn't the faintest idea what these words meant. he'd traced the source of the hack and sent a team in, but they'd merely found an empty bunker with nothing but a piece of paper in it... reading "Love, Rogue." Whomever this "Rogue" character was, they were a professional. Though he hadn't known it at the time, the hack had happened shortly after Shepard's death; it couldn't be a coincidence. It was too convenient for it to be one.

Poured himself a shot and drank deeply. This was a very upsetting day. he looked out at his holo-background. This odd planet scenery had always made him feel powerful. _Well, Rogue. It takes two to play war games._

It was bad enough they had more colonies disappearing; now he had a mystery threat to deal with, and Shepard was a no-go.

There was no doubt in his mind now; humanity was doomed.

He sat down, and started typing up a contingency plan for not _if_ , but _when_ the Reapers came. Cerberus would survive. And they would collect.

No matter the cost.

* * *

A young woman sat in a small bunk. Her face was lit by the data pad she was reading. Her hair was a tawny auburn color, with a single dark streak of black on the right side, and her eyes were a silver-blue that glinted in the dim, orange light. Her lithe build and broad shoulders, with well-muscled legs hidden by her pants, told any observant person she had been a runner. But now, she was a theif. Ever since the first colony disappeared, she had been gathering information, looking for ways to fight back. They needed a spear. In her hands, was the beginnings of one.

But every spear needed a sharp, strong tip, or it couldn't breach the enemy's armor. A smile broke her features. There was one individual on this list that was more interesting than the others. There was a person here that had worked with Commander Shepard; a Quarian, Tali'Zorah. But there was another individual on here as well, one that connected too perfectly with another associate of Shepard's that she had been greatly interested in.

Several months after the death of Commander Sahara Shepard, a Turian Spectre candidate went MIA; one Garrus Vakarian had not been seen since. But this individual, marked on the Cerberus dossiers as a possible member of the rebuilt Shepard's dream team, Archangel, had surfaced on Omega a short time after Vakarian's disappearance. A mysterious vigilante with a crack team of do-gooders, ticking off every merc group in the Terminus systems. A symbol of hope on Omega.

And according to eyewitness accounts... he was a Turian.

She was good at spotting things that weren't coincidences. And even if it was a coincidence, they could still use this guy. The data mine she'd done had discovered so many useful things. Cerberus might have had good intentions; but stealing the body of a hero right from under the noses of her friends and family, tricking her loved ones into thinking they were burying her, using experimental treatments on her remains? Anyone who did something like that couldn't be trusted. Shepard should have been left to rest. That was what death was for.

She was certain Cerberus had ulterior motives as well. Working from the shadows, investigating the colonies. She'd sent her freinds to the latest colony to be attacked; Freedom's Progress. They had yet to report in.

She flexed her shoulders and adjusted her position. Cerberus couldn't be trusted, no matter what intentions they claimed to have. Which was why she'd started doing _this_. Being exactly what her alias was; a rogue. Humanity needed to fight back; they needed a crack group of heros and misfits gathered from the farthest, oddest corners of the galaxy.

Every spear needed a sharp, strong tip. And unless she was mistaken... "Archangel" was their best bet. She grinned broadly to herself as she examined the hazy picture of the Turian. There was no doubt now; the shoulder shape was exactly the same, and they were wearing a visor over one eye.

 _Hello, Garrus Vakarian. I do suppose it's time we introduced each other._

Still grinning, she closed the pad.

* * *

Sidonis had never felt so relaxed before. Everything about their last mission had gone perfectly. Garrus was happy, they were happy, everyone was happy. Several of the men were talking about settling down; but he could see it in their eyes. They didn't _really_ want to give this up.

He'd decided he would treat himself to a drink and a new gun in celebration. The rifle in his hands felt smooth, and had the best weight he'd ever felt. He felt untouchable with it in his hands, as he strode through Omega's back alleys. He froze as he heard a sound he'd come to familiarize himself with.

The cry of a Human in pain.

His head snapped around in the direction of the noise. It only sounded like one Human, but he approached the alleyway cautiously none the less. One Human; he probably wouldn't need to call Garrus in on this, but his hand was ready to reach for his comms just the same.

He turned the corner...

And was slammed into the wall. His hand reached for his comms, but the Krogan who had knocked his gun out of his hands and pinned him against the wall grabbed his wrist so hard, he though it might break.

"Don't even think about it, Turian." he spat the last word out like it was poison. More mercs appeared from the shadows, and Sidonis felt something black open up in his stomach.

This was not good.

"If you know what's good for you... you'll do as we say."

* * *

 **Okay, so I did a little revision of this, and added some stuff to fit in with the ret of the story more. I felt I needed a little more hook in the beginning chapter of this.**

 **Let me know what you guys think of this and whatnot.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	2. For Turians to Cry

_In which missiles love Garrus' face..._

* * *

Not a lot of people heard the sound. Greif was something Turians typically dealt with in private, where nobody could hear the chittering, grinding sounds they made when they cried. It was their form of sobbing; they didn't cry like how other species did. They didn't even shed tears, necessarily. Their eyes produced a transparent, film-like substance that acted as a protective layer against extra-strong UV rays; like a temporary third eyelid of sorts, which went away after a prolonged period of blinking. So even if a Turian wasn't making any grief sounds, one could always deduce an emotion of sorrow if the Turian was blinking rapidly.

The Turian who cradled his brother-in-arms under the harsh Omega lighting wasn't bothering to hide his grief sounds, however. There was nobody around left to hear the noise, anyway. His mandibles fluttered, and his voice grinded in his throat. It was like Shepard, all over again.

The whole crew of the Normandy had caught him by surprise. All those Humans, quite a few of them with their iciness towards Turians. But over time, that cold had been thawed. He'd become close with Kaiden Alenko, and the young Quarian, Tali'Zorah. But Shepard? They had hit off an almost immediate friendship. She would say something sly, and then he would respond with a deadpan that swiftly warmed up even the coldest of rooms. She and Kaiden had had something special, but Sahara and Garrus had been, according to Joker, the Normandy's top double-act.

Fierce ties of friendship and family had been made during the mission against Saren. He hadn't even realized it before it was too late, he had, in the space of a few months, grown used to having Kaiden and Shepard at his side, to the point where it had felt like peeling off a several scales when the time came to say farewell to them and the _Normandy._

Hugs and slugs to the arm. He got up behind Kaiden, and noogied him on the head("Damn it Sahara; _YOU_ TOUGHT HIM THAT!"). Promises to come visit, her saying to get through the Spectres soon, so they could travel around in the Normandy as "butt-kicking Spectre partners, plus one". Kaiden being the plus one. Saying farewell to Tali, the rest of the crew. Him and Wrex parting on good terms. Paying a visit to Ashley's station, to say goodbye to the one that hadn't made it. Waving the Normandy off.

Kaiden and Tali confronting him with the news his partner in crime was dead. He hadn't bothered hiding the grief sounds then either. It felt like loosing a hand; his right hand. Going to earth for the funeral, crashing at Kaiden's place. The two of them and Tali spent a great deal of time together there., until Kaiden got reassigned, and Tali had to go complete her pilgrimage. Garrus tired to become a Spectre. He really had tried. But the new regulations put in place, Shepard dead... the bureaucracy had begun to wear him thing. He'd felt like a caged animal.

And really, what was he doing, trying to become a Spectre hen his and Shepard's plans for dual butt-kicking had been dashed forever?

He'd thought going to Omega would be better. He could help. meeting Sidonis. Forming the new plan. becoming heroes.

He guessed all heroes got betrayed at some point.

Garrus' head shot up as he heard more noise from outside. The enemy was gathering for a final assault. he lowered the mutilated Human to the floor gently, and covered the body with a blanket, next to ten other body's, of ten other dear friends. None of them, not even Sidonis, had ever been as close to him as Shepard and Kaiden had been. But it hurt enough anyway. It hurt like someone was tryng to boil his scales off with acid and rip his chest open so they could grab his spine and yank it, breaking it in two. A gruesome image in his head, but that was what it felt like.

He grabbed his rifle. He probably couldn't hold out. But he would try. If he was to perish, he would be taking as many of these dirt bags with him as possible.

 _Do you see me up there Shepard?_ He pictured his team. _And the rest of you? You'd better save me a drink at the bar. And you damn well better not be late with the cab, Shepard; be on time for once!_

With that, he propped his gun up, and began to shoot.

* * *

Garrus let himself sink to the couch, panting. He let out a small cough, and blue blood bubbled at his mouth. _I think I broke a rib. Maybe all of them._ Some of them blood had gotten onto the couches, Butler's damn fancy couches that he had to sit on so he could stuff his face to kingdom come. That man had had two stomachs, and a metabolism like a Salarian on something that probably wasn't decaf.

Butler would've killed him for getting blood on his beloved couches.

The fight with Garm had been... intense. As had all the other fights. For a long while, he'd been certain he'd be overwhelmed, and he almost had been. The Blood pack had tired to get in through the basement, but that was where Garrus' explosives expert had like to keep his things; the Turian had set off all the charges, collapsing the basements, if not killing everybody in them. It was just the Blue Suns left now.

 _Huh. I honestly didn't expect to last this long._ That, or he was still alive because Shepard was late with the cab.

He thought he could hear a sound; a deadly sound. He groaned internally. _I thought I took care of that thing!_

Before he knew it, shots were being fired through the window. He dove behind Butler's favorite couches, which were now being filled with holes. Pain still rang through his body, and he knew that if he pushed himself too hard, one of his shattered ribs might puncture a lung. He didn't need that right now. _Damn it, Butler! Why couldn't you have gotten tougher couches!?_

Bullets were going through the leather fabric; this cover wouldn't last much longer. If he could get to that wall...

Garrus took his chance as the guns died down to cool off, and he ran from cover, intending to get behind a more solid object. His eyes could only widen, reflecting the fiery haze, as the missile found it's mark. Agony flared through him as it hit his armor. He thought he heard shouting. Turian shouting. He couldn't breath. He thought he could hear Shepard, laughing at him, maybe opening the cab door for him. _"Git yer stupid scales in the car, Garrus!" "Git yer stupid arm out of the way then!"_

Someone shook his shoulder, yelling at him. "..Didn't come all this way to watch you die! Breath, man!"

What? What was that? Breathing? Then he remembered. He wasn't breathing. He'd forgotten to. he took in a shuttering gasp, trying to open his eyes. Something gurgled in his throat, and something that tasted like blood kept pushing it's way through and out of his mouth. Several hazy forms above him. Someone talking about medics. he tried to focus on the figure in front of him, hazy, maybe Humane, two pinpricks of silver-blue eyes. Everything was too much, his senses overwhelmed by just how much _pain_ and things there were. Mentally, he screamed for Shepard, for Kaiden, or Tali, or anybody to _make the pain stop_.

Everything spiraled away, and the last thing he heard was, perhaps, the wound of the gunship blowing up.

* * *

 **Well, that escalated quickly.**

 **I'm glad people are interested in this stuff! And yeah, I agree, Destiny had a more flexible content. But that's the thing with more hard plotted stories like Mass Effect; when you find a _good_ AU, it had to be VERY good. I'm writing this because I want a change in pace; over half fanfics in the archives are romance or follow-along of the ME plot. I love adventures, action, and there aren't enough good AUs for me to read here. So, in typical "Fine I'll do it myself" fashion, I started writing this... thing.**

 **Hope everyone sticks along for the ride!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	3. The Rogues

Pain. Pain and cold. That was all the Turian knew. He was in pain. _A lot_ of pain. He was laying with his head turned to the side, the natural position for a Turian. His neck and face burned and itched, his ribs felt like they'd been shattered, there was no blanket on him, only the under suite of his armor, he could tell, and he was _cold_ because of that. His face, neck, and ribs were the pain, and the lack of blanket was the cold.

Every memory was hazy and muffled. He could remember the pain. The hazy figures dancing around him. Panic setting in. Something soft slipping over his eyes, the panic fading by just a little amount that made all the difference in the world. The soft thing was still over his eyes, he could feel.

"Where are you with the damn cab, Sahara..." he mumbled. He instantly regretted it, pain shooting through the joint of his right mandible. The cab had a heater in it. It would be warmer, so much warmer, than whatever coffin they had placed him in...

There was a lack of weight on his head. His muddled brain tried to process what was missing. The familiar weight from the back of his neck, running along the left side of his head...

His visor! Someone had taken his visor! _Oh, damn you're not!_ They could take his life. They could take his freedom. They could take his team. They could take every one of his scales from his body. But _NOBODY_ , _ran off with his visor_!

Garrus forced his eyes open. His vision was obscured by the soft thing, and he lifted one hand, ignoring the pain, to pull the soft thing away. It was a bandana, to cover his eyes. It wasn't tight, like he'd been blindfolded by a captor, and his limbs were not restrained. The bandana must have been for medical purposes. Because of the Turians' avid origins, it was common practice to cover a critically injured Turian's eyes to help keep them from panicking.

He was in a dark room, the lights dimmed perhaps for his convenience. He couldn't hear anyone, as full awareness came throbbing back to him. He was on a soft bed that lacked blankets. He tried to sit up, and sucked in a pained gasp as angry, burning pain flashed through his face and neck, and fierce bolts seemed to shoot along his ribs. He tired to look around, but it hurt to move his head, so he tried moving his torso along with it, only to discover that made his ribs hurt more.

Kaiden had once nearly been killed by a falling boulder. That had been terrifying, he'd been certain he'd lose his friend. But the Human had, thankfully, pulled through. He'd often complained about his busted ribs. Was this what that had felt like for Kaiden?

Well, Kaiden hadn't taken a missile to the face after breaking his ribs.

He felt along the uninjured side of his head. His visor really was gone. The familiar HUD display was gone. He felt naked without it, someone might as well have pulled every scale off of his neck. Looking down, he saw he really was in his under suite. But where was his armor? Where was his visor? He needed his visor. He's had that thing from day one in C-Sec, his sister had given it to him upon leaving Palaven. That visor was everything to him, every memory, every laugh and every sob.

Painfully, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and set his feet on the floor. Bracing himself, he got up, only to stagger, falling back onto the bed, ribs jostled painfully by the jerking motion. _How long have I been out?_ Out long enough that he was uneasy on his feet. His eyes cought the glint of a familiar light. The HUD of his visor! His visor! It was just there, on a desk at the far end of the small room.

Spurred by the sight of his precious possession, Garrus forced himself to his feet, and clenched his jaw in pain as he strode over to the desk, and snatched the visor up. He caught sight of the names carved into it. The names of his men, his friends, the ones who had died back on Omega. His eyes narrowed in rage at the sight of "Lantar Sidonis". Though it was painful, his mandibles fluttered in anger, creating a clicking chitter at a frequency only other Turian's would be able to hear. The sound of a Turian angry beyond words.

There was a scalpel nearby. He snatched it up, and took the blade to the visor, back and forth, angry, rage-filled, pouring out hatred as he scratched out that name, that horrible, insulting, traitorous name.

"That bad, huh?" He whirled around. The door had opened. Standing in it was another Turian, who must have picked up the rage clicking. His pale brown form was outlined by the soft, golden light of the hallway beyond. His vibrant green eyes were understanding, and face paint stood out white against his scales, a sickle shape beneath each eye with more white trailing along his mandibles. He wore brown and black Turian casualwear, and a sort of thick dog tag looking charm hung from a chain around his neck.

"I was betrayed." Garrus spat angrily. The other Turian watched him patiently.

"We know. We picked up the communications. Tried to catch Sidonis, but that guy really knows how to disappear." he told him, much to Garrus' surprise.

"How do you know...?"

"A friend of mine likes keeping her ear to the ground. A lot. You can't hide anything from her, and if you try to, she just wants to find it out more."

"Who are you? What do you mean 'we'?"

"My name is Syrus. We're... well we're a bunch of nobodies who just so happen to be interested in you. We would've come sooner, but we got held up. By the time we arrived, you were half dead, and we had to do a little emergency plague-curing to get you to a proper doctor." Syrus explained, waving a hand around the room. "And this, as you can see, is our glorious excuse for a hospital."

"Where am I?" He demanded. Who were these people? 'A bunch of nobodies' didn't really answer his question. "What do you want with me?"

"You're on our poor excuse for a ship, still docked at Omega, and we want your help to save the galaxy." Syrus answered. "We've heard you're a bit of an expert in that field of work."

Garrus was at a loss for words. Here they were, just throwing this at him, and he could barely think!? _Well, you_ did _ask..._ His mind countered snarkily.

"Oh, that's not the whole thing. I'm just your warning; my 'leader' is on her way down to see you." he assured Garrus as the wounded Turian gawked at him.

Suddenly, this ship shook, and the lights flickered.

 _"Damn it; Rogue get them to let us stay docked, I'm not finished with the calibrations yet!"_ An accent he recognized vaugly as Scottish rang through the intercoms. The voice was male, young, and undeniably Human.

 _"YOU try 'negotiating' with a Batarian_ _! 'You pyjaks come here, steal our doctor, shoot at our people, AND have the gull to outstay your permitted docking time?' Honestly, you'd think we were criminals. We liberated Archangle, cured a plague, and might I add, Mordin was more than willing to come with us. Kidnapping. Pffft."_

 _"Rogue, you're ranting again."_

 _"Am not."_

 _"Are too."_

 _"I am TOTALLY not ranting."_

 _"Yes you are; what you just didn't, that is the exact_ definition _of ranting."_

"Will both of you get off of the comms; Archangel is awake." Syrus sighed into the intercom piece on the wall.

 _"Ooooh, goody! Okay, first things firs; what's you're really name? I love nicknames; I 've got one myself, but we can't go around calling you by that moniker anymore; too well-hated"_

"Rogue, how about you do the normal thing-"

 _"I_ am _doing the enormal thing, Syrus."_

"Talking to someone through the shipwide intercoms is not the normal thing. Coming down here and talking to him in person it."

 _"It's not MY fault you chose a shoddy ship with no personal lines..."_

"Hey, don't go pinning this on me; EVERYONE chose this ship, Rogue. Not just me. Sal BEGGED for this ship."

 _"_ _I did not!"_ That voice had a sort of odd, vibrating rasp to it, almost like a Turian. Almost. Drell, perhaps?

"Excuse me, I can tell you're all in the middle of what has to be a very fascinating conversation about me," Garrus interrupted, "but could you please all just get down here and tell me completely and exactly what is going on here?"

Silence.

And then...

"Why, 'ello, mate!" A voice greeted. A head poked around the corner, Human, female, and shining with a smile. Her hair was a tawny auburn color, with a dark streak on the right side, and her eyes were a vibrant silver-blue that seemed to piece the air itself. Her whole demeanor could be described with one or a few words. Swagger. Confidence. Sarcasm. As she came into full view, she revealed herself to be wearing a dark blue T-shirt, and some brown pants. A tag similar to Syrus' hung from around her neck.

"And you are?" Garrus asked as Syrus walked up to take a place by her right side. A young Drell came panting to the doorway, and grinned, black eyes shining. He was dressed in some old-looking cloths that looked like they should have been worn by a Human; he'd run out of better options, perhaps? A brown, worn out knee-length coat, red shirt, some dark pants, along with another one of those tags. His scales were a light green and dark brown pattern, with a bit of an odd silver sheen to the green parts.

"Oh, hey, he _is_ up!" the Drell exclaimed, on the woman's left side. Syrus rolled his eyes.

"Of course he is! I said he was, didn't I?" he sighed in exasperation. Garrus gripped his visor tightly, tense. He didn't know these people. They seemed a bit crazy and backwards. If he didn't get answers soon, he was making a break for it; pain or no. He cleared his throat to try and get their attention.

"Oh, yes, you. Okay. My name's Rogue, this is Sal," she nodded to the Drell," and you've already met Syrus. The doctor who treated you, Mordin, is in the bathroom I think. And then we've got our plus one, Fitz, who's currently crawling through greasy, disgusting, engine vents."

"I finished crawling through engines three minutes ago." the Scottish voice from before said. The three turned to look at the young Human man that had arrived, cloths tattered and stained by grease and grime that Garrus couldn't tell what he was wearing, though another tag glittered from around his neck. His skin was dirty, and his hair was darkened and plastered to his forehead by sweat, but sky blue eyes seemed to peak out from beneath the grime, shining in sharp contrast to the rest of the Human's body. Actually... come to think of it, they were _actually_ shining, in a strange, tech-ish kind of way, and though he couldn't be sure, Garrus swore he saw some kind of implants on the young man's ears as well.

"I want answers." Garrus demanded.

"To what questions?" Rogue asked.

"Who are you people, why did you come for me, where the heck am I, and where are you taking me?" he gripped his visor harder, trying use it to anchor himself to reality. It was the only sane, familiar thing in the universe.

"Well, didn't Syrus answer most of those questions?" Syrus gave her a withering look.

"You were listening through the comms again, weren't you?" he chided.

"Hey, it's a small ship. A really small ship. And yes, yes I was." she shrugged. "Basically, everything he said; that's it. We really are just a bunch of nobodies and misfits."

"Drala'fa." Sal agreed. "We're just kind of stuck. Call us a spear that want's to be thrown, but can't, because it's lacking a tip."

"And we want YOU to be that tip. Hence the 'saving the galaxy' thing. We figured we'd need someone experienced in the matter." Rogue finished, grinning. Garrus, unable to process it all, leaned back against the table, feeling dizzy.

"You want me to lead you?' he asked. They blinked, and all eyebrows went up.

"What? No." Rogue assured him, stepping forwards with a purpose. "There's only one leader on this ship, and it's _me_. We needed what some might call a 'resident butt-kicker'. Kinda hoping it would be you."

"What happened? After I got hit?" He might as well clear that up. He could remember waking, multiple times, but it wall all a haze of drugs and pain.

"I did what I could for you." Sal told him. "But I'm not an expert in dextro-aminos. The only legitimate doctor on Omega who won't clear your pockets for one flu shot is , but he was trying to wrangle the plague."

Garrus nodded. The horrible disease had arrived a few days before Sidonis' betrayal.

"So," Rogue continued,"We had to sneak you into the quarantine zone. Brought you to the doc, helped him distribute the cure-"

"Kicked a few Vorcha teeth in on our way-" Syrus interjected.

"And boom, here you are, three days later." Rogue finished. He felt like he might be sick.

"Three _days_!?" he exclaimed, swaying slightly, pressing the fist that held the visor against his forehead, perhaps some part of him hoping his knuckle could somehow dig the truth into his brain. Sal flinched.

"Yeah, you weren't exactly in good shape." Fitz told him. There was a loud beeping sound." _Bosh-tet_!"

Garrus blinked in surprise at the Quarian swear word leaving the Scott's lips, before the dirty Human ran off to whatever it was that now required his attention. He could barely comprehend all that had just happened. The betrayal, the missile, these people...

"Should leave him alone. Needs time to recuperate, let events of day sink in." a Salarian-toned voice said. The newcomer who pushed himself through the small cluster of people at the door was indeed a Salarian. Russet-pale gold skin, a white lab coat, missing one of his horns, several scars lining his face. He looked to be in his twilight years as well.

"Yeah." he agreed softly. He closed his eyes, mandibles twitching. There was a lot to think about, a lot to place in his mind, sort out. The Salarian made a sort of 'shoo' gesture at the others who began to back out.

"Well, think about our offer, will ya? Won't kill ya for saying no. But the galaxy kind of needs a hero right now, Archy." his head jerked up, and he snorted in amusement at the nickname despite himself.

"'Archy'?" he questioned.

"Well, we don't know your real name... though I have one or two guesses. So, 'Archy'. Ta-daa. Call me the queen of nicknames-"

"Go!" the Salarian interrupted Rogue, and her head disappeared from around the doorway. He turned to Garrus, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Should rest. Went through a lot. Should heal quickly, though."

"I appreciate your help, doc." he limped back to the bed. "What's your name?"

"Mordin Solus. Ran clinic on Omega. Rouge brought you to me, helped cure plague." the Salarian helped him ease back onto the bed. He could feel his injuries shifting painfully because of the movement. "Rouge told me of problem, considered her off. Saving galaxy, higher calling. Needed the best, she said, wanted me with her. Decided to come with her. For you, and for sake of greater good."

"Greater good? Problem? What problem?" he asked. Rogue wanted Mordin, and she wanted Garrus. He didn't trust her or her gang of 'drala'fa' one bit, but the situation certainly made him wonder...

"Probably best you don't know just quite yet. Will have heard it on the vids, but much bigger problem than thought originally. Probably best you don't have anything else to worry about for now. Rest. Heal." Mordin insisted. Garrus closed his eyes, still holding his visor. He ran one claw repetitively over the names carved into the side.

They were gone. They really were. He'd lost every single one of them except for Sidonis. His claw ran over the violent scratches of Sidonis' name, and his facial scales darkened into a close-eyes glare.

One day he would find Sidonis... and amend that.

* * *

 **So yeah, meet the team, guys! *cue anime action intro sequence***

 **Glad too see you guys are liking this so far! And if you haven't already, I suggest you check out my new series of Mass Effect one-shots, starting with "Kaiden Alenko and the Coffee Maker of Doom". The Legion one-shot by far is the most popular, though. I've been thinking of Fitz's backstory lately, and I think you guys'll find him to be one interesting little dude. And yes, I have a Drell. He's one rogue of a Drell, though. Hehe, get it? 'Rogue'?**

 **Having a lot of fun with Destiny Sparrow racing and the new strike system. It is SO blazing.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	4. Curiosity (nearly)Killed the Geth

_In which Legion's curiosity get's him in trouble for the very first time..._

* * *

 **One year, eleven months previously...**

The Mobile Platform had arrived at it's first stop. The most advanced Geth platform ever created jumped down from the entrance of it's small ship, landing with a _crunch_ as it crushed dirt, twigs, and other scattered forest debris. It's head swiveled from side to side, scanning the area around it.

The planet was designated 'Eden Prime' by the organics. The Mobile Platform's mission?

Locate Shepard-Commander. Observe, not incite, the organics. Assess if peace with the creators was a possibility. Rannoch was dying; not by direct fault of the Geth, no. They tended the planet caringly, took good care of the world the creators had left behind. But without the creators, startling patterns had begun to emerge in greater and greater numbers throughout the past three centuries.

Without the Quarians, Rannoch's ecosystem was breaking down, slowly but surely, no matter what the Geth did. It was not the desire of the collective for Rannoch to die. Consensus was that making peace with the creators may save the slowly withering 'walled garden'.

Finding Shepard-Commander was the absolute priority, though. Recent data suggested a return of an Old Machine. Shepard-Commander and her squad knew the most, therefor locating her would help confirm; did the Geth need to fear, or welcome the Old Machines? The Mobile Platform's runtimes were of the consensus that the Old Machines would kill Geth as well as organics. They were in favor of the 'fear' vote.

Eden Prime was where Shepard-Commander first engaged the heretics. Shortly after the heretic separation from the collective, work on creating the Mobile Platform had begun. It was freshly deployed right now, plating shining and pristine as the midday sun as it broke through the trees, dotting the ground. It's steps were soft and silent as a deer, several runtimes devoting themselves now to silent running of the mobile functions. Several metal flaps extended or flattened themselves as it adjusted it's personal gravity input, so that event he twigs barely snapped under it's lessening weight.

The Mobile Platform was unlike anything else that had ever set foot on this planet before, organic or synthetic. It was truly alien to this world, something that didn't belong yet was there all the same. Not even Sovereign would have noticed it or been able to recognize it for what it was with it's pristine stealth systems running.

It was heading towards what were the remains of the Human colony, to observe, and to link to local extranet access. Something it didn't recognize passed through it's systems. It was about to truly embark on it's purpose. When it met Shepard-Commander...

Well, the simulations went two ways. It would either succeed in communicating it had no hostile intents, and Shepard-Commander would be the first non-hostile organic-Geth communication in centuries.

it's auditory sensors detected movement ahead, and soon visual sensors caught flashes of moving bodies as well. The Mobile Platform slowed it's pace, and lowered itself, stalking forwards on it's haunches, occasionally using it's hands to steady itself, bearing striking resemblance to ancient Quarian hunter-gatherers on the prowl, movements catlike and graceful just as they were built to be. It stopped at a crouch near the edge of the trees, getting it's first glimpse of organics ever.

They were, of course Human. They were still cleaning up after the heretic attack of nearly half a year ago. For some reason, fifty runtimes diverted from their usual processes to reflect that it had taken the Geth half a galactic standard year for the Mobile Platform to be built and tested for proper use. The other runtimes gave a sort of virtual 'prod' to the distracted ones as stealth systems began to fail, sending them back to their tasks, and preventing the platform from being discovered. Ever runtime had it's place in operating the platform; none could afford to get distracted by such menial things.

The Mobile Platform watched gathering data. It quickly discerned who and who were not original inhabitants of the colony. Those who were walked with slumped shoulders, or looked with dull eyes at the ruins as they cleared the area. Twenty runtimes filed for consensus to go out an apologize for the heretic actions on behalf of the rest of the collective, but all other runtimes ignored them; the task was to not be seen, and they presented the twenty runtimes the data to remind them. They went back to their tasks, and visual and radio sensors detected an extranet access point from somewhere in the building nearby.

It was a hasty, temporary shelter. There was a tree branch just outside the window of the second floor, where the access point was Mobile Platform made it's way around the clearing to the base of the tree, activated it's visual cloaking, and silently, carefully, hauled itself into the branches. It picked it's way through the tree, before coming to a halt at the branch just outside the window. Looking through, visual sensors located the Human that was using the extranet.

It was watching visual recordings, a compilation of them, all involving some sort of creature. It was usualy covered in fluffy fur of varying colors, from black, to gray, to bright ginger, with retractable claws on all four paws, and an agile bearing. Tapping into the extranet router, it discovered the creatures were called 'cats'. The Human seemed to be fascinated by the vids, as the Mobile Platform tapped into the network undetected. The Human made a sound, and the Platform backed away on the branch, flinching as all runtimes considered discovery.

However, the Human did not seem to have noticed the platform, and it soon discovered through extranet sources that it had merely heard what a Human laugh sounded like. The organic was amused by something... the antics of the animals it was watching? Several runtimes attempted to process this. How and why. Almost as if subconsciously, the Mobile Platform, leaned forwards edging along the branch partway without even realizing it.

Passive scans monitored the Human's vitals. Lack of sleep and dopamine, as well as the presence of other neural chemicals, implied the Human was going through some stage of grief. More visual scans of the room discovered still-photos of other Humans, who in appearance seemed to have a familial match to the one watching vids. In one photo, a cat sat with the family. A number of runtimes began deducing that the family was most likely killed during the heretic attack, and it leaned forwards just a tiny bit more. With so many runtimes now focused on playing with the new mystery put before it, none of them realized that the stealth systems were flickering, and the platform's gravity regulation was beginning to fail.

The Human was attempting to stem it's grief with amusement. It was trying to forget, just for a moment, the terrible things that had befallen it's familial collective.

The platform leaned closer.

Were the organic ties so closely bonded together that loss of those ties, termination of a member or members of a family collective, drove the remaing individuals to sleeplessness and comfort in such menial things like cat vids?

The platform leaned closer, dangerously close to the edge of the branch, with it's grav regulators failing. It's visual stealth system flickered off, and the Geth was now visible without even realizing it.

But what was the purpose of the cat vids? Why watch these animals in particular? What was so amusing about them?

One hand put pressure on the farthest end of the branch as all sensors remained transfixed by the human and his predicament. The very audible crack was very hard not to notice, however, and the Human spun around in it's chair, the cat vids still playing, and his eyes widened, all sensors picking up details of fear from the organic.

"GETH!" he screamed in English. A quick download off the extranet gave it full acess to linguistic databases, and for the first time, it used it's linguistic interface.

"We do not wish to incite. We wish to-"

 _CRACK!_

The Mobile Platform's explanation was cut off as the branch heaved beneath it. It looked down, at the branch at the ground. Then back up at the Human.

"We apologi -"

Once again the Mobile Platform was cut off, this time by the fact the branch had fallen out from beneath it, with a loud creaking and cracking, followed by a crash as both branch and Geth were sent plummeting to the ground in a flurry of metal leaves and metal limbs.

In a lifetime that lasted only a split second to the multiple armed Humans that were about to pursue the Mobile Platform, all available runtimes made several consensus.

The Mobile Platform scrambled to it's feet, plating scuffed, and ran in the opposite direction of it's ship. Several runtimes sent the remote command for the ship to leave when the Human forces in the area were at their least. It could not risk the ship being found.

Chances of preserving the Mobile Platform and runtimes aboard were projected as low if they surrendered their hardware to the Humans. However, standing orders from the collective were to avoid harming organics at all costs save termination of the platform's runtimes.

So, consensus was that it could loose them in the forest.

Unfortunately, it had not conceived to access a map of the area when it had it's extranet tap. Now it was out of range of the short hub. Now, it was being driven towards a cliff by the Humans like dogs herding a hapless lamb. It spun as it reached the edge, water crashing at the rocky shores below. The Humans advance.

It had no choice; it had to fight it's way out, and unfortunately it was going to have to terminate several of these organics to escape. It reached for its rifle...

And had no room or time to maneuver out of the way as the shoulder-launched rocket slammed into the platform's chest. It was sent flying over the cliff and into the sea, down, down, down...

* * *

 **3 Days Later...**

Waves crashed against the shore, the ragged beach painted by the Eden Prime sunset. All sorts of kelp and crabs washed up here, along with other strange sea life. Several six-eyed, moose-like creatures were munching on seaweed washed up on shore. Some distance along the shore, recently washed up against the rocks, was a sodden pile of scrap, in the sorriest state any could be in.

The pile stirred, and the Mobile Platform's eye light flickered on as runtimes returned from the passive preservation, to active programming. Immediately, damage notifications passed through it's systems. Visual sensors were malfunctioning, and as water sloshed over the platform again, yet more problems revealed themselves, more systems that were damaged beyond repair. The Mobile Platform remained still as it preformed internal checks.

Personal gravity regulator; beyond repair.

Visual stealth system; beyond repair.

Passive stealth systems; possible to repair.

Visual sensors; minor repairs required.

Linguistic systems; diagnostic recommended.

Backup targeting systems; beyond repair.

And thus the list went on. While other runtimes continued to explore the damage, it ran the required linguistic diagnostic. During it's extranet link, it had discovered a number of quotes from famous Humans. There was one, which it regarded as an appropriate metaphor for the current situation the Mobile Platform found itself in, and it chose to recite the quote to complete the diagnostic.

"'I have not failed. I've successfully discovered 10,000 things that won't work.' Thomas Edison, 20th century." The runtimes of the Mobile Platform had indeed, discovered today many things that would not work. It looked around, flickering visual sensors examining it's surroundings on the beach. The lowest flap on the left side of it's eye light overloaded, sparks flying and several wires snapping as it tested each of it's body plate in turn. Now the runtimes knew why they weren't getting any sensor data from that plate. It disconnected partially because of the small explosion, and now dangled, lopsided, every time the Platform moved it's head.

After a few hours, it was deemed safe enough to move, at least to a place where the ship could reach it. The current consensus was that the Platform would be repaired using available resources. Return to Rannoch was not an option; they would continue, damaged or no, with their mission, to the best of any Geth platform's ability.

The Mobile Platform got to it's feet slowly. It looked down, doing a visual assessment of the damage. A large hole in it's chest, ripped metal, many wires that would have to be re-routed, replaced, or removed altogether. The rest of the platform was scuffed and dented, pockmarked with holes in some places, both from shrapnel and from being slammed against ocean rocks for several days.

Were it organic, it would have been mortified at the sight of it's once-shining plates being broken and faded so quickly. It took a step forwards. A burst of sparks flew from it's right leg, which buckled beneath it, and it fell to it's knees, bad eye plate dangling. It positioned itself to examine the damage, and rearranged several wires in a makeshift repair as several runtimes signaled the ship.

It landed on the beach, and the Mobile Platform limped to it's transport.

This would not be the only time curiosity (nearly)killed the Geth.

* * *

 **Curiosity, indeed! Poor Legion, I'm going to end up being so mean to him during these little flashbacks to his travels. I always wondered what exactly Legion got up to before we met him in the derelict Reaper. He's such an interesting character, and I'm sure it's obvious by now that I'm a big Legion fan(SOCKS!^^). I'm currently trying to come up with a way to save him from his ME3 fate. I MIGHT have an idea...**

 **Also, here's to hoping the new summary gets more people interested in this than the old one!**

 **I can't wait until we delve fully into this! While we might be meeting some characters like Grunt and Thane, some people, like Jack and maybe Zaaed, will never be seen or mentioned. On the flipside, we might be meeting certain character who we wouldn't otherwise encounter until ME3. That's how wild this will get with Garrus and the Rogues in charge, and I can't wait to take this series into it's full AU swing. Shepard not coming back is baby steps; the BIG changes are yet to come.**

 **That being said, don't forget to check out my other fics! I have an army of ME one-shots that's been building up recently. People DEVOURED Legion's.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	5. Truths Hurt

"Alright. Now, you're going to tell me everything." Garrus said, sitting in the chair. The room was lit with a red lamp. Rogue sat in the chair across from him. He had slept some, and eaten, and Mordin had given him something for the pain. Now, it was time for answers. He'd told them his name, though reluctantly, and Rogue hadn't seemed too terribly surprised to find out he was _the_ Garrus Vakarian that had fought alongside _the_ Commander Shepard.

"Okay. Well, here we go. You ever heard of Cerberus?" Rogue started. Garrus' mandibles pulled tight against his face, and he stiffened. Oh, did he remember them... the sick things they had done to those poor people...

"Unfortunately." he answered. "Why?"

"Well, I'm actually quite the great hacker. And it turns out, you were on their list. Not their kill list; their recruitment list."

"What?"

"You heard me. In connection to several projects of theirs. Project SR2, Project Lazerus... and Project Shepard."

Again, his mandibles pulled tight against his face. It was too much to be a coincidence. "Project... Shepard?"

She tapped a few things on her data pad, and handed it to him. "See for your self. Personally, I thought it would be better to wait until you were fully healed to show you this, but Syrus is too noble. I still think it's a bad idea, because of course your gonna want to go after them..."

Her voice and many other things faded into the background as he read on. His mind went blank as he sifted through report after image, list after psych eval. In the end, only one thing, one though, echoed through his mind.

 _They stole her body. They stole her body, and they didn't have the decency for their damn project to succeed._

 _They stole Sahara's body, right from under us. She never even made it into the ground..._

"So," he began, voice shaking with rage. "They stole my best friend's body, and desecrated it for nothing? They wanted her to form some team to save the world, but without being told first? Just like Cerberus, to not ask someone's permission before signing them up for something. What are you; one of their recruiters?"

"Whoa, hey, you heard me earlier, right? I hacked them to get this stuff. You see, after a lot of digging we found out about project Lazarus a year ago-"

"An you didn't do anything? You should have brought her home, you should have contacted Anderson or one of the others, had them blow that base to pieces!" he snarled. _She_ knew _, and she didn't do_ anything _!_

"Hey, we're a bunch of nobodies driving around in a busted up Quarian shuttle. You really think the council is going to believe a bunch of space hermits?" she reasoned. "We would've gone to that Krogan buddy of yours, but we, er, ran into a problem getting onto Tuchanka. Syrus is our driver, the moment they picked up his life sign they tried to shoot us out of the sky. Couldn't find Liara even if we tried(can't afford Illium parking expenses or comm usage), Alenko's mission is classified to the point where even _I_ can't get in, You were MIA, and this thing is too rickety and unreliable to go chasing the Migrant Fleet halfway across the galaxy just to get Tali'Zorah."

Garrus allowed a few moments for his tired mind to process the information, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his forehead with one hand. He had left, and everything had gone wrong. Well, things had been going wrong since before he left, actually. They were part of the reason, too. After the Battle fo the Citadel, he'd gone back to C-Sec, started evaluations for the Spectres. The Shepard died, and everything began to come crashing down on top of him.

Anderson lost political pull, the rest of the Council began to drag Shepard's name through the mud despite the sacrifices she'd made and the things she'd accomplished, and even after he went out publicly to defend her, it did little good. Unable to stay and watch it happen any longer, and unable to take the useless feeling that had settled in his heart, he'd gone to Omega, hoping that there, at least, he could make a difference.

The poor souls he saw abandoned on the street every day made him think 'maybe not'. And there was no way to help them all. He hoped, at least, his war with the gangs had left something of a big enough dent in Omega's criminal operations. Maybe, if he had never left... he would never have met his team. Sidonis probably would have died in that alleyway, and would never been a problem. But then again, several of his team would be dead. Butler, Ripper, Montague...but they had died in the end, anyway. Did it really matter?

A small voice in the back of his head said 'it does'.

But if he had never left, there would have been someone Rouge could have alerted to Shepard's fate. he would have had Spectre resources to take to Cerberus' front door. He would have _made them pay_ , and returned Sahara to her resting place. An idea came to him. _They mentioned Tuchanka..._

Maybe there was still a way to get her back, before Cerberus did something else terrible to her body. Rogue's files were incomplete; half the information on several people and places were missing. But if Wrex really was on Tuchanka, he was willing to bet that the Krogan would be just as unhappy, if not more so, to find out Shepard's body had been defiled. The Krogan placed high value on the honor of their dead.

They had few 'good qualities', but in Krogan society, there was no greater crime or insult than spitting on someone's grave. Cerberus... might as well have dumped the entire contents of a waste receptical on Shepard's, by doing what they had done. Wrex would not be pleased, and with Garrus injured there was no way the Turian could partake in any vengeance-wrecking; he needed someone to help do it for him, and an angry Krogan was just the person to ask.

"Okay. But why did you come after me?" he asked.

"Well, when I heard Project Lazerus failed, I decided to steal all I could and run away with it." she explained. " And I discovered that they still planned on collecting those 'recruited'. We were here in the Omega system anyway, so we decided; why not pick Archangel and Mordin up while we're at it. And before you ask, yes, Mordin already know all this, I told him after he was done fixing you up that day. You fit the bill for what the galaxy needs right now. you had a team, you're a natural leader. Basically, we're going to try and pick up as many of these people as we can before Cerberus gets to them. Tried avoiding certain... others, though. Cerberus was also hiring criminals. As in, two known killers, one of whom is crazy, and a 'master thief'. Did I mentioned the Assassin? A lot of the people on this list are either crazy, killers, or both. I'm just glad you aren't one of them."

"Wait, crazy or killers? What about the Justicar?" he asked, confused.

"Well, she's just scary. And I'm a major hacker. Plus, Sal screamed then fainted when I suggested going to get her. So... maybe not that one?" she shrugged. "I was thinking our next stop could be 'Okeer'. He's one of the crazy ones, but he's along our way to the Citadel, so why not?"

"No." he said. One of her eyebrows arched up in surprise. "Not the Citadel. I want to go to Tuchanka. Cerberus has Sahara; there's someone I need to talk to about that."

 _Then I need to figure out how to explain this to her mother..._

"Um, sorry, was I not speaking loud enough when I said they tired to shoot us out of the sky when they detected Turian life signs?" she exclaimed, startled.

"According to your information, Wrex is on Tuchanka. I need to reach him, if no-one else. I can't bring Shepard back from Cerberus without help." He said.

"You can't take on Cerberus in this shoddy ship either." came the muffled reply from the other side of the door. It opened, and a grease-covered, cranky Fitz glared down on them. "We call it the 'Rusty Tin Can' for a reason. Now can I use the toilet?"

"Dude, we're in the middle of a private meeting!" Rogue protested.

"That half the ship can hear because this place carries sound unfortunately well. There's only one bathroom on this ship and I need to use it. So please?" he snapped back.

"Hold it in for three more minutes, Fitz, please?" the leader fo the 'space hermits' asked, waving him off. His strange glare deepened.

"I've been holding it in for three hours while I finished installing the FBA couplings. Not to mention I need a shower." the scott seemed to hiss.

"It's okay, really. I think I know all I need to, for now. You can fill me in more later, right now I'm just tired. You can go ahead, Fitz." Garrus stood, giving Rogue a pointed look. He didn't know much about the oddball crew he'd just been picked up by, but it was painfully clear to him already that Fitz didn't get much sleep or luxary. He'd only been conscious for a few hours aboard the Tin Can, and the Human had been zipping back and forth the whole time between systems. He was probably the only reason this ship was space worthy.

Rogue stood and stretched. "If you say so. I'll have Syrus and Sal plot a course to Tuchanka... but if we get blown up, I'm blaming you."

They left the room, and a look of relief flashed across Fitz's face as he stepped in and closed the door behind himself.

"Just one more thing. You said the galaxy needs me. For what? What exactly is going on?" The question had nearly slipped his mind.

"Colonies are disappearing. Thousands of people, just seemingly vanishing into thin air." she told him, looking suddenly somber. A shudder ran up his back. _That's... not natural._

"You want to know the really weird part?" she leaned in closer, as if to share a secret, as the crawl-y feeling grew along his spine. "They're all Human."

* * *

 **And so the mighty, noble quest begins!**

 **Damn right, there are still cat videos! Jay told me she tortured you before posting that chapter, LoL. I kind of freaked out when I read it, like, who in their right mind would hurt precious little Martin? I want to wring Askor's neck for doing that... I also kind of hate her for what she does in the next one, too.**

 **Really, it's just a string of chapters that mess with my emotions. The butt-kicking that goes on is good, though. Lots and lots of butt-kicking.**

 **A kick-a-rama.**

 **I'm going to use that term on a daily basis now.**

 **Without further ado, read and REVIEW!**


	6. Krantt

_In which Garrus is a mad man with a plan._

* * *

He kept insisting they save Okeer for later. _Demanded_ they head for Tuchanka first.

The grief of losing his team was still fresh, and he would hunt Sidonis to the farthest ends of the galaxy if he had to, but he had to get Shepard back first. For that, he would need a small army... or a _really_ angry Krogan. Wrex had been incredibly angry about Shepard's death. For all their faults, Krogan held their dead with sacred honor, and Wrex probably wouldn't just be angry when he heard about Cerberus; he might go into a blood rage, Garrus was certain.

"We're approaching the Krogan DMZ." Syrus told him, mandibles flicking nervously. It had been two days since his and Rogue's little chat. He'd spent most of his time in what passed as the infirmary on this ship, the "Rusty Tin Can", as the others called it. He couldn't help but agree, it was a terrible ship. Aside from the infirmary and the engine room, there were only two other rooms on it.

Rogue and Syrus shared a bunk... which had been stuffed in a rather uncomfortable-looking closet. Sal and Mordin shared a room, and Garrus, whilst exploring the ship, had discovered that poor Fitz didn't get proper sleep at all; he survived off of cat naps he took in the engine rooms, waking whenever something needed tending too... which was a lot. He was actually a little impressed with this little group, the way they'd managed to survive so far with this thing. But there was no doubt in his mind, they would need a proper ship soon; a _safer_ ship soon.

The conditions were cramped. Fitz's hands were covered in cuts, burns and callouses from all his work, and was in the worst condition out of all of them, and everyone was painfully aware of it. He'd also asked about the cybernetics he'd seen on the young man, but he'd refused to talk about it.

"Good." he said, leaning over the other Turian's shoulder. Another mystery. He'd never seen colony markings like Syrus'. Maybe one of the newer settlements? In C-Sec, he had memorized every marking and it's meaning whenever a new one came through processing.

They sat in silence a good long while. Sal was in the seat next to Syrus', Garrus standing between them. Rogue was still asleep, and Mordin would be wanting Garrus' attention soon. He tipped his head, trying to read the title of the book the Drell was enthralled in. Noticing his curiosity, Sal angled the book in a way he could see the cover, smiling wryly.

"'Lord of the Rings', J. R. R. Tolkien. One of the most popular works ever written on Earth. Became even more popular after first contact; has an alien following you wouldn't believe, Asari in particular. It's up for nomination this year for most popular work in the galaxy." Sal explained. "This right here is the complete works, all three books. Had it since I was a kid."

"Really?" Garrus' mandibles flicked lightly. "Had no idea it got that popular that fast. You're what, mid-twenties?"

"Yeah, in Human terms. Actually, it wasn't widely known yet when I was kid. Only reason my parents had it was because we lived on Earth." Now _that_ was something. His head snapped around to look at the Drell in shock. Syrus noticed his reaction and chuckled.

"You didn't know? Mexico is a very popular tourist stop for non-Humans. A lot of Drell go there, most wind up applying for citizenship instead of cashing in the return ticket. I hear it became popular with Turians as well. At least, the ones brave enough to live on a levo world." the pale Turian explained, Sal nodding in agreement.

"My parents fell in love with the place and never left. It really is beautiful; you should pay it a visit some time." he suggested. Garrus shook his head. _Drell and Turians living on Earth; now I've heard it all._ He shifted his weight, and felt a flash of pain in his chest. His face still hurt a lot, and his ribs hadn't healed yet. He stil felt a little bit shaky, and he hoped finding Wrex wouldn't take too long.

 _"Unidentified vessel, you are trespassing. State your business, or be fired on."_ a gruff Krogan voice came through transmission. Syrus' fringe pricked up a little in surprise.

"Odd. Last year they just shot at us without warning." he commented, before turning on the comms. "This is the 'Rusty Tin Can', we need to speak to the chief of Clan Urdnot. We don't want to cause trouble, we're just looking for someone, he might know where we can find them."

 _"There are Turians aboard your ship. If you think we're letting them on Tuchanka, think again."_ came the reply after a short pause. Garrus leaned forwards with a flash of anger, the movement sending pain shooting through his wounds. _I don't have time for this!_

"Listen you, this is a matter honor to the dead. The name 'Urdnot Wrex' mean anything to you? He helped kill Saren, alongside a certain Turian who happens to talking to you. The warrior we fought alongside had been dishonored in death. I'm landing on Tuckanka; either point us to the landing pad, or we'll improvise and set down on Urdnot camp, with or without your permission. " he declared. Syrus made a grievous keening noise in his throat, and Sal buried his face in his book fearfully with a moan as the new silence stretched on.

Then...

 _"Fine. Very well, land at these coordinates. The Clan Chief will speak with you."_ the voice said begrudgingly. Syrus melted in his seat, and Sal heaved a breath. Garrus just glared at the upcoming planet. _I'm coming for you,_ _Sahara. We're going to make Cerberus burn..._

* * *

Garrus gingerly dismounted the landing ramp, careful not to jar his ribs around too much. The stale Tuchankan air burned his lungs, but in a way it was refreshing to breath something that wasn't artificial air. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. He'd insisted on doing this alone. It was better that way. One Turian was bad enough, taking a bunch of strangers with him might not go over well.

There were two Krogan waiting for him, to 'escort' him to the Clan Chief. He felt a little less safe, oddly naked, without his armor on, only a set of casualwear lent to him by Syrus between him and many Krogan fists, which could turn hostile at any moment.

The thought of Shepard, locked in a Cerberus base, being defiled, experimented on... that set his fear to the back of his mind, and replaced it with the bloody desire for revenge once more. Maybe she would be proud of him, waltzing onto Tuchanka like he owned the place in nothing but his civvies. Or maybe, she'd threaten to strangle him for being so stupid.

"This way." one guard grunted. Garrus nodded, and followed through the ruined halls, sandwiched between the much larger Krogan. He walked with a predatory stride, a 'stalking gait' of a Turian on the prowl. He was here with a purpose, and nothing would stop him. He was prowling indeed, prowling for Cerberus blood.

He was led up a ruined hole in a concrete floor. It was night, and there was little activity in the camp. Moonlight flooded what could have been a throne made of wreckage through a hole in the ceiling, the rest of the area cloaked in shadows. Wind could be heard howling outside, wind that Syrus had complained about greatly while landing. The Guards halted next to the throne, facing intently a figure in the shadows; a Krogan in battle armor, standing with his back turned to them, hand folded behind him. Others were gathering, some curios, some wanting to see a Turian get his scales ripped off. All faces were hostile, but Garrus found himself thinking little of them. There was only one Krogan he needed to see, and the chief before him was the one Krogan who could tell him where to find him.

"So... you decide it isn't difficult enough to live on this planet, without Turians trespassing, adding insult to injury?" the Clan Chief said, voice low and hostile. But Garrus... _knew_ that voice! His mandibles parted, though painfully, in a wry Turian smile. _You son of a gun..._

" _You_? What about _me_? I'm the one who had to try and land on this dump!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms and tossing his head to indicate the ruins around him. The other Krogan around him growled dangerously, a few of them shouting insults.

"Tuchanka may be a radioactive pile of rocks, but it's _my_ radioactive pile of rocks." the Chief rumbled, still not turning around. Garrus took a small step forwards.

"Radioactive?" he asked innocently, batting his eyes, a rumble of laughter pushing at the back of his throat. The Krogan around him roared with indignation.

"Rip his fringe off!" someone yelled.

To all their surprise, though, the Chief had begun to _laugh_. Low, rumbling, maybe a little ecstatic. Garrus' grin widened.

"I had to go make friends..." the Chief turned around at last, stepping into the moonlight, red eyes glinting, "with the one Turian in the galaxy who thinks he's funny."

"You know, I'm _that_ charming." the Turian snarked, as the rest of the Krogan sputtered and gasped, disbelieving of what they were hearing.

"Ha!" Wrex barked, striding forwards. He gripped Garrus arm and gave him a light whack on the shoulder. "Garrus, my friend. You look like a Thresher Maw chewed on your face."

"Actually, I took a missile to the face. No Thresher Maws were harmed in the making of this battle scar." He flicked his head to the side to give a better view of the wound, trying to ignore the pain the movement cause. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan had gone silent, jaws agape as they watched their Chief greet a Turian like he was _krantt_.

"Let's go somewhere we can talk without these mouth-breathers staring at us." Wrex suggested, jerking his head to indicate the other Krogan, glaring at them. "Don't you people have anything better to do?"

The scattered, though a few others still stared as Garrus followed his old squad mate to a back room behind the pile of rubble that passed as a throne. There was no door, anyone could eavesdrop. But Garrus, by this point, didn't really care. As soon as he was out of sight, Garrus let out a huff of breath, sinking down with his back against the wall. All of this had exerted him more than he had thought it would.

"It really sucks to be me these days." he said, closing his eyes as Wrex leaned back against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"I take it it wasn't just a missile?" the Krogan grunted.

"Nope. You know the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, Eclipse?" he asked, opening his eyes. Wrex nodded. "They all teamed up to kill me. It was _a lot_ of fun."

Wrex snorted at the comment, as the Turian's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What did you do to tick off every major merc group in the Terminus Systems?"

"I won't lie; I really had to work at it. Eventually, I was... betrayed. They killed my team at our own base, by the time I got there it was too late." His mandibles pressed against the side of his face with anger. " After that, they threw themselves at me. Mechs, Krogan warlords, explosives. the gunship's what got me in the face-"

"Hold on, gunship? They sent all that and a gunship after one guy?" The Krogan Cheif interrupted, surprised. "Ha! Maybe there's a bit of Krogan in you after all!"

Garrus chuckled, but it sent pain bolting through his mandible again. "Ah, no, don't make me laugh. My face is barely holding together enough as it is. But that's not what I'm here for."

"Not what you're here for? Garrus, half the galaxy thinks you're dead. Like some sort of Saren sympathizer got ahold of you." Wrex growled, glaring at him. "Some are still looking. You show up in _my_ home after nearly two years of nothing. Why not Kaiden?"

"Can't find him. Alliance has him on some sort of classified mission. Liara's out there, but I can't exactly afford a trip to Illium. Chasing down the Migrant Fleet? I don't even know what ship Tali is on!" he shook his head."Besides, I can't fight, and this needs doing now. I figured an angry Krogan would be best for the job."

"And what's going to make me angry?" he snorted. Garrus' eyes narrowed as he stood up, and Wrex froze. Turians and Krogan were opposite ends of s spectrum. Turians were primarily predators. Krogan originated as prey. The look in Garrus' eyes was like that of a bird of prey on the hunt. A 'predators focus', what could equate to the Turian version of a blood rage. it was enough to make any prey race freeze and check their surroundings, enough to make Wrex's plates itch. he'd never seen that look on Garrus before.

"You remember Cerberus?" he asked, glaring at the floor. He glanced up at Wrex as the Krogan answered.

"Who could forget them." he simply stated. Even he had been disturbed by their twisted experiments.

"They took Shepard."

For a few moment, there was silence as heavy as the Citadel. There was only Garrus, glaring into nothing, and Wrex, rooted to the spot as his blood processed what he'd just been told.

"What?!" he growled dangerously, uncrossing his arms and getting up close to the Turian, a look of murder in his eyes.

"They took her body. Ran some sort of experiment on her. My source says they were trying to bring her back, and failed." he paced, a predator's stalk, before halting and punching the wall so hard, he was certain he heard bone crack. He didn't mind the pain. He _wanted_ it, he wanted his body to hurt like his heart did. "I know where they have her, I know what I have to do, and I can't do it. Damn the Blood Pack, damn Eclipse, damn the Blue Suns to the galactic core for making it so I can't do what has to be done!"

He turned to face Wrex. There was a look mixed between caution and rage in his old friend's eyes. "That's why I'm hare, Wrex. I need to get her out, and I need to watch that base burn. I want to watch it burn like the Rachni home world of old. I want to take the ashes, and throw them into a black hole."

Wrex looked the Turian up and down. Terminus had changed that dumb kid he'd met all those years ago. Changed him a lot. he supposed he'd been right when he said the real world was going to bite.

"Where is it?" he asked, voice low and angry.

"I can give you the coordinates. Just need a team to go in and get her." Garrus answered quietly. "Thanks, for helping me with this. I owe you."

"Not doing this just for you, Garrus." Wrex said as he walked past to prepare for revenge, clapping a hand lightly on the Turian's shoulder. "I owe Shepard. I'm doing this for more than one old friend, I suppose. I considered the crew of the Normandy _krantt_... all of them."

He stamped out yelling loudly for ships to be prepared, leaving Garrus to fume, glaring at the wall.

One did not simply anger a Krogan Clan Cheif. Cerberus would do more than simply burn for dishonoring Shepard's remains.

* * *

 **WREX SMASH!**

 **You can all guess what happens next chapter; we find Shepard, and get a very satisfying explosion in the process. Gee, I love explosions.**

 **Jack is definitely scratched, so is Zaeed simply because I can't stand their potty mouths). Samara perhaps, as well, because her loyalty quest squiks me out a bit, and because I can't have too many characters going along; it would get a little confusing. She might have a few cameos, though. Thane... I'm still undecided on Thane, he might join the team. Legion will be here later as well but...**

 **Not EDI. So, I'ma have to come up for a new name for him. I already have a list... and I won't lie to you, half of legion's potential new names are in Elfish.**

 **Don't judge me. 'Aglar' sounds cool, 'Iaewnauth' fits, but I also like the sound of 'Crow'. It's catchy, and the story behind it would be funny. meh, I'll decide when I get there. Him having the same name as in canon would feel lazy to me.**

 **Anyway, without further ado, read and REVIEW!**


	7. Revenge Served Ice Cold

_In which Garrus is mad. Very mad._

* * *

Marcus Fillons was just an average monitor watcher. He spent every day just... staring at ladar, staring at reading, cataloging the ships that came through the relay. Today was just another glorious day at the CDEM. He was glad he brought his paddle ball.

And then...

Marcus jumped as the alarms started beeping. The Krogan had few weaponized ships... and a small fleet of 25 was now barreling towards the Mass Relay. He dropped his paddleball, and spammed the hail button.

"Krogan contingent, please respond. You are leaving en masse in weaponized craft!" he tried. "Krogan contingent, disengage engines and prepare for boarding! Good grief, STOP, or we WILL blow you out of the sky!

 _"I didn't ask your permission, kid. Call the Alliance; tell them to expect a present from Clan Urdnot."_ a gruff voice answered. with that, the whole group took offat a risky speeds, landing at the Relay before the CDEM dispatch could catch them, and blasting off to another system.

"Fillons, report!" the Salarian captain of the garrison asked as the whole room buzzed with alarmed activity.

"They just took off, sir. 26 ships, including a previously cataloged, and I'm really not kidding here, sir, 'Rusty Tin Can', which appears to be leading the contingent." there were a few snickers at the ship name. The captain looked at him disapprovingly.

"Now is not the time for jokes, Mr. Fillons." he chided.

"No, really, that's the ship name; just look at the register. Ladar pegs is as an old Quarian ship, larger than a fighter, but certainly not a frigate. It's not even weaponized." he explained. The captain never took Humans seriously.

"Mi'tok, contact Alliance Command; tell them they might have some Krogan visitors on their way."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

A body lay in the slab. Dirty blonde hair spread beneath her head, blue eye closed. Body intact... brain? Not so much. Fried and liquefied, beyond repair. The neural cybernetics had overloaded. There was a Y-shaped cut on her chest, as if for an autopsy. Really, it was anything but; they were taking her apart, retrieving the costly cybernetics that had failed. They might as well try to scavenge some of what they made, right?

 _Wrong_. Very wrong.

Miranda came down here as soon as the station started shaking. The Krogan had arrived unexpectedly, even _they_ hadn't seen this coming... Normally they would be more than capable of holding them off, destroying the old, ramshackle cruisers and frigates, not at all elegantly maintained like Quarian ships. Normally, she would have fled the first chance she got. But the communications system and them evac area where the first places the Krogan had hit... as if they had a map of the base.

The Illusive man had mentioned hackers about a week or two back... but how would the Krogan-

"Hello." a quite voice greeted from the shadows behind her, soft and carrying the angry subvocals of a Turian. A small smirk on her face. _Well, wouldn't you know._

She turned, and he stepped into the light. He was in casual clothing, fresh burns, for the most part, obscured by a patch of gauze covering one side of his face and neck. He was shaking slightly, though from rage or his recent injuries, it was hard to tell. A bulky Krogan in _chieftain_ armor loomed behind him.

"Well, well. I should have know it was you Wrex. Though last I hear, Garrus, you were MIA. Good to see you're alive." she smirked at the snarl that plastered itself across Wrex's face, red eyes locked onto her with hatred burning deep like embers. Garrus' eyes, however, was locked on something else entirely. The body on the slab behind her, cut open with organs and reddened cybernetics on varying trays as if it were a butcher's shop. He hands clentched, and his mandibles pressed tightly to his face, silvery-blue eyes hollow and full of rage at the same time.

"Would you like to explain this?" he asked, a scream barely suppressed.

"We were trying to re-build her. Exactly as she was before. It might not concern a Turian, but unlike everybody else, we won't sit back while our colonies disappear. If we had succeeded, you would be thanking us!" she pressed, glaring at them both. A strange sort of jerk passed through the Turian's body, which seemed to cause him no small deal of pain.

"If you had succeeded, I might have given you some leeway. But this..." he waved a hand in the direction of the body, "what you have done... is unforgivable."

She knew what was coming. She didn't really care. She'd let him do it; it would give her the chance to put the bug on him. The need to know who was messing with them, was greater than the need to preserve her own life. And the sooner they stopped messing with Cerberus, the greater Humanity's chances of survival were. She had already recommended further and unforgiving excavation of the Prothean site on Eden Prime, as well as stealing schematics from the Andromeda Initiative. Garrus approached her, so close she could almost hear the soft clicking sound his mandibles were making as they flickered against his face angrily. Wrex stood back, knowing perfectly well not to interfere with what was about to happen.

"You," he said slowly, angrily, "disgust your very species. You stole her, then failed. And then you have the gall to cut her open and tear her apart like she's some sort of toy you've grown tired of, just because the parts are worth more then what she actually was. What were you planning to do next, hmm? Throw her in a ditch?"

"That _was_ the plan; it's the most convenient method of disposal."

A bang range out, crimson blood spattering across Garrus' clothes. Miranda Lawson crumpled to the floor in a heap, a hole in her chest where her heart had been.

"Wrong answer." Wrex growled as Garrus let his hand fall to his side, allowing the pistol to fall to the floor with a clatter. "We should have it wrapped up in about an hour. We'll load these pyjaks up and send them to Anderson. Or maybe Captain Shepard; she might have a lot of fun with them."

"Not the Captain. I'll see to... informing her." Garrus told him, voice subdued as he walked over the the slab, resting one hand on the metal.

"Don't strain yourself, kid. For the record, I was against letting you on this station."

"Then why didn't you stop me?"

"Because I know it's pointless to argue with you."

"Then go. I'll take care of this."

He heard the heavy thumps of the Krogan leaving. For a few moments, he stood in silence, just staring at the pile of meat cleaved open before him.

A keening noise split the air. He gripped the edges of the slab tightly with both hands, swaying slightly as his whole body shook. DId the universe just have it our for him? Was Garrus Vakarian doomed to nothing but eternal despair, watching everyone he knew and loved get sent to a chapping block, a firing squad, illness, nuclear fire? Was he looking at what his life was cursed to be right now? One tragedy after another, never ending, never caring?

He reached out with one shaking hand to touch her wrist. Cold, still, no pulse beneath the soft Human skin. Her wrist had been cut open, too, with some sort of half-removed cybernetic attachment sticking out of the skin. One of his claws brushed it, and a strained whimper escaped him. He looked around the room. He couldn't look at this anymore, the red and the cybernetics, the torso that had been ripped wide open so as to remove what seemed to be cybernetic ribs. Only half of them were removed. Her left leg was in ribbons. in some places, it looked like they'd started peeling off her skin. He felt like he might throw up.

His gaze found an emergency station on one of the walls. He strode over in record time, and ripped it open. He took the emergancy blanket, and practically flew back to the slab, draping the shining 'fabric' over her body gently. He paused before covering her face. The only thing left intact, or mostly, rather. There were odd cracks, like scars, through which cybernetic grafting could be seen. He wondered if her eyes were still there, still intact? Or had Cerberus removed those, too. He reached out, wondering, but then stopped himself with a chocked sob, deciding he really _didn't_ want to know.

Instead, he rested his hand on her forehead, staring off at the opposite wall. It really did stink to be him these days. _Why_? Just... _why_?

"I'm sorry, Sahara." he said quietly. He took his hand away, and covered her face. So, the colonies really were endangered...

He'd mentioned it to Wrex earlier, on the ride over, and his old squadmate had agreed with him; this, _stank_ of the Reapers. The chief had said part of what he was doing with the clans was to prepare them for when the synthetic dirt bags arrived. What was happening to the colonies sounded a lot like the HUmans were being harvested.

But why only Humans?

Then and there, Garrus made a silent vow over Shepard's body.

He would put a stop to it. For her people. For every Human he'd ever befriended. For her. For Kaiden.

For Ashley.

For every child who went to bed at night thinking the world would still be perfect when they woke up. For every colonist who had the guts to make it out there on the frontier. For every species the Reapers had ever laid to waste, he would not let this continue.

And if he got to burn Cerberus to the ground while he was at it... why complain?

Watching the station bloom into a glorious explosion was the most satisfying thing he'd done all week.

* * *

Arcturus Station was abuzz with activity. According to a transmission from a CDEM garrison, a small contingent of Krogan might be heading their way, with hostile intentions.

"Admiral, something's coming through the Relay. 20 ships, at least." The navigator alerted him. Hackett whirled, face set into it's usual seriousness, the tissue of his scars glinting slightly like raw skin as he turned.

"Krogan?" he asked.

"Yes, sir." the navigator confirmed. Hackett moved to the front of the room.

"Ready weapons." he ordered. Alarms blared, and the Arcturus Fleet prepared, all pointing in the direction of the Krogan vessels emerging from the relay.

"Sir, the lead ship is hailing us." one operator informed him.

"Put them through." he strode towards the contact screen, and a red-eyed Krogan with an equally red, battle-scarred skull crest, appeared.

"Admiral Hackett?" he grunted. The Admiral nodded. " This is Urdnot Wrex. Put the guns away. I told you to expect a present, not an armada. I've got a few brigs full of some sniveling Cerberus pyjaks you might be interested in. I'd like them off my ships before they start to stink up the place. Their crime might... interest you."

The Admiral blinked in surprise. He looked at the sensors. What few weapons the Krogans had weren't powered up. He smirked. "Wrex, this is Hackett. Point us to the brig; we're sending secure ships to dock with you."

* * *

 **Short, sweet, and to the point. Attack Cerberus, kill Miranda, blow up the base, hint at future, cameo Andromeda. My work here is done. I spent the entire time I wrote this chapter listening to Nocturnal Me by Echo and The Bunnymen(Stranger Things soundtrack). I'm being really mean to Garrus, poor fellow. Somebody give him a hug and some dextro waffles.**

 **Don't worry; next time we'll be getting into knowing the Rogues a little better, and maybe stop off at the Citadel... who knows; a few more explosions may be in order. :3**

 **Also, Wrex and Garrus are my broOPT. Their interactions in 3 just get me every time!**

 **"I hear Vorcha prefer them grilled!"**

 **THAT SALARIAN'S FACE! _PRICELESS_!**

 **Your stick-poking is ineffective. Try a cattle prod; it works with Jayfeatther. OH MY GOSH THE VIE COUNT ON THIS FIC IS 777! BUNGIE LUCKY NUMBER! *deep nasal breath* I feel like... a successful Crucible match is in my near future...**

 **And without further ado-**

 **Actually, that sign-off just isn't cutting it. In fact, it's so lame It's probably the reason nobody reviews. I'll just go back to what I did before; beg hopelessly.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	8. Shrinks and Plans

_In which Wrex and Garrus plan for the worst, and Syrus is a big softie mother hen._

* * *

"Thanks for the ride, Wrex. And the creds." Garrus gave his old friend a firm handshake as they stood at the docks to the Citadel.

"Heh, don't get too excited, kid; that's only a quarter of what we found at that base. I trust you to use it to hire a Quarian to look at that ship of yours; it looks like it's falling apart at the seems." the Chief Urdnot barked.

"Fitz tries his best. He remind me a lot of Tali, actually. He'd probably complain about Quarians 'messing with his systems'. But this is more than what we had before; hopefully we'll be able to make things a little safer down there for him. Heck, maybe he'll get some proper sleep for once." the Turian shrugged.

"Whatever you say. How long will this take?" The Krogan's voice took a turn for the quieter as four Alliance medics marched past, Shapard's covered body on a gurney between them.

"The Orizaba is on it's way. Maybe they'll let mama Shepard take a few punches at the Cerberus pellet eaters who did this." He answered darkly. Wrex looked at him odd.

"'Pellet eaters'?" he asked.

"Ancient Turians ate rodents whole. They coughed up the fur and bones in pellets; like Earth's owls do. It's still considered manly... depending on how big a pellet you cough up. 'Pellet eater' is an old insult." Garrus explained.

"Did you ever eat a rodent?" The Chief chuckled at his expense.

"Once. It was that mission on that one planet, the dextro world with the floating mushroom-y things?" he admitted. Wrex barked a laugh.

"The one you were with Chakwas three hours straight afterwords? That's what you were doing in there? Ha!" He moved to thump the Turian on the back, before seeming to remember his old friend was still fragile, and settled for a light whack to the shoulder. It was Garrus' turn to look at him strange.

"You seriously don't remember? I charged out of there screaming my triumph for the whole ship to hear! Are you telling me you never noticed!?" he gasped, mandibles parting in a wide grin.

"Wait, I think I remember... You were chasing Ashley around the ship with something..." Wrex pondered, a laugh rumbling in his throat.

"Haha, she said it was gross, and I told her, 'No, It's manly', and she... disagreed with me when I tried to get closer to her. "Garrus laughed. " So I threatened to touch her with it, because Shepard dared me to. I think Kaiden still has it on vid; it trended on the extranet for a while, you know."

"What was the title? 'Manly Turian chases woman with a ball of vomit'?"

"Hey, it is not vomit! Like I said, it's fur and bones packed together by our gizzards."

"But you throw it up. It's still vomit; just the solid kind."

"Not vomit!" Syrus called from where he was carrying a crate of supplies back to the Tin Can.

"Thank you!" Garrus gasped, waving a hand in the direction of his fellow Turian.

* * *

They strode through Zakera Ward, not paying any mind to the the other passerby or advertisements. They ignored preaching poloticians, the screams of the news stations, the babble of pointless conversation, the whispers and brief glances in their direction. To be fair, a Krogan and a Turian walking side by side, engaged in freindly conversations, was a rare and unusual sight. But then again, the topic of their conversation was unusual as well.

"There's no chance they'll take you seriously. As soon as Shepard was gone, our chances went down the drain. I've done my best with my people, but they don't know what they're up against. Some of 'em think I got ulterior motives for uniting the clans." Wrex said in a low voice as they strode together.

"Those ulterior motive being preparing them for the Reapers, as best you can. Exactly how prepared are you? Give me the picture." Garrus asked, voice also low. Reapers weren't a popular topic of conversation, and neither of them wanted to be overheard speaking about them.

"Been stockpiling weapons. Big ones. Heavy ordinance in scattered vaults across the clans. A few other chiefs agreed with the Reaper theory, agreed to help. Others don't, or didn't, but they began getting more... conservative with what they used on other clans after what happened with Saren and Soveriegn. In a way, all of them know what's coming; many just won't admit it." Wrex explained, careful and nonspecific with how much he told. Garrus was still a Turian, after all. "We're Krogan; we have survived. And if there's even a chance the Reapers will complicate that survival, you bet we'll prepare for them."

Garrus nodded with approval. "Well, at least one race gets it. Mostly. I Still can't say the same for my own people, can I? You would think the Hierarchy would take this more seriously; Saren was one of ours, after all. Well all saw what he was like..."

"In a way, I don't think Saren was anymore a Turian than a pyjak by the end of it. You saw the guy; he was outright insane, and you saw what he turned into, heard what he said to you." The Krogan gave him a rough nudge with his shoulder. Saren had been a disgusting disgrace to the Turian people. Wrex felt his skin crawl as he remembered the time the not-Turian had called Garrus out directly.

"Shepard, I wouldn't expect you to understand. But _you_ , Vakarian? You're just a disappointment, clinging around a Human like that. I expected better from a fellow Turian." Saren had sneered. The look on his face, the disgust in his eerie glowing eyes, was enough to make even Wrex want to throw the younger Turian behind a nice, safe boulder. This wasn't just the pure hatred Saren had for Shepard. This was... something special, a look reserved only for Garrus, the 'disappointment'.

"You're a disgrace to our people!" the kid had shouted angrily from Shepard's side.

"No, Garrus; I am the ultimate Turian. I am your future. I am the future of all organics!" the madman had replied, glaring down on the other Turian with enough predatory force to make Garrus cringe as if trying to sink into the ground to hide. The look in Saren's eyes had been... Wrex still couldn't fathom the words to describe it, but Garrus had been unusually silent for a long time after the encounter.

"Over my dead body." Shepard's words as she and Kaiden closed rank, placing themselves discretely between the murderous glare and their gray-scaled friend. Tali, though shaking, raised her shotgun threateningly. Wrex had let his growl speak for itself. Ashley had thrown a rather colorful Human insult at Saren, aiming her rifle. It had been on Virmire. About an hour before Ashley died. Saren had taken turns playing cat and mouse with the group, but he had singled Garrus out for extra after that conversation.

The personal threat had not been taken kindly, least of all when the younger Turian was nearly thrown into the sea by a blast of biotics later on in the mission. Shepard had been a vendetta for Saren; he'd wanted Sahara dead above all things. Garrus? He'd played with Garrus like a cat with it's prey, and for some reason, that had done the deal of making the indoctrinated former Specter all the creepier.

"What do you think about the colonies disappearing? Why only Humans, that's the part that gets me." the young Turian shook his head.

"Well, if it is the Reapers... the Humans killed Sovereign." Wrex pointed out. A Krogan respected their most worthy enemies. The Reapers could be trying to whittle the Humans down; eliminate a majority of the threat with smoke a mirrors. A coward's war. But then again, Garrus had mentioned it looked like the patterns of harvesting...

"That in itself is enough for them to be afraid." Garrus nodded. "If only we could validate that fear by making people _listen_..."

"At least we can talk to Anderson." Wrex grunted. "I got... business, to discuss with him anyway. You saw our firepower; it was pathetic. If Cerberus had had proper defenses, I would've lost a lot more than three ships. I gave the Alliance some shiny new Cerberus operatives. I want some shiny new guns, on some shiny new ships. I need ships if the Reapers come, and there are Human colonies connected to my relay. If our mysterious Human-napping friends come anywhere near Tuchanka, I'm not letting them hit the surface without a fight. A _real_ fight."

"Really? Just the _Reapers_? Never seen a Krogan this ambitious about defense rather than offense..." Garrus mused.

"I'm trying to preserve my people!" Wrex snapped, growing hot with anger. "What would I gain by attacking anybody? The Reapers are the real threat; I can't go wasting Krogan numbers on anything _but_ war with those synthetic dirt bags. Otherwise, we won't be strong enough to stand a chance!"

"Relax; I wasn't accusing you of anything." the Turian raised his hands innocently. "I was giving you a compliment."

Wrex grunted in reply. Garrus' Omnitool beeped, and they both looked down at it as he opened it. If Turians could go pale...

"The Orizaba's here. I... uh, I have to go meet the Captain. I'll meet you at the Presidium?" Garrus said, shaking slightly. It was obvious he was not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have with 'mama Shepard'. Wrex had met her once, at Sahara's funeral; he could see where the Commander had gotten her fighting spirit from. The Captain was a fierce wrath, not to be trifled with. She had spent the last two years spitting venom on the Council politics, and Wrex would be lying if he said he hadn't cheered and toasted her name more then a few times. He nodded, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Good luck." he told his old friend, before leaving him. It was odd... three years ago, he never imagined he would ever think of a Turian as a friend, let alone trust one as completely as he did Garrus. Let alone Garrus. But, he did. They were the only ones right now, the only ones capable of doing a damn thing in this world of politics, each others only allies. He should probably keep in close contact with him and his 'Rogue' group.

There really were Human colonies a jump or two from the DMZ. Wrex hadn't been as worried before... but Garrus resurfacing had brought about a sudden urgency. A kick he had needed to get himself settled into action again. Now he was seeing patterns he didn't like. The attacks were getting bolder and bolder. First the Terminus systems. A few in the Attican Traverse here and there. What was next? Would the Reapers _dare_ to hunt Humans in Citadel space? Well, if they did, he wasn't letting them go anywhere _near_ Tuchanka.

He'd sooner rip his skin off and feed it to the pyjaks than let a Reaper land on _his_ planet.

* * *

 _Captain Hannah Katherine Shepard,_

 _It's me. Garrus. Before you kill me, there's... something you should know. I know, I've been away for a while, and I promise I'll give you my legitimate excuse when we meet up but first, there the matter of Cerberus to attend to._

 _There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to say it like it is. They took Sahara's body. Right from under us, before the funeral, I'm thinking. They were trying to bring her back, but they failed. By the time Wrex and I got there, they had already been... they were cannibalizing her for the the cybernetics they'd put in her. Trying to get back some of their money, no doubt, the pellet eaters(don't ask what that means, it's an insult, which is all you really want to know)._

 _We got her back. Blew up the base with some angry Krogan. That was fun, at least. Watching that place go up is the happiest thing to happen to me in... wow, it's only been a week and a half since my life went to heck? Time sure flies, feels like the universe has been out to get me my whole life. In case you need someone to punch, a gift of nearly three dozen Cerberus prisoners was delivered to Admiral Hackett early this morning, courtesy of Urdnot Wrex. Try not to mention my name too much; I'm trying to lay low a little before the time comes of paparazzi-ville again._

 _Meet me on Zakera Ward. Near Dark Star. Why not next to that little game store of theirs? We'll... the body will be transferred onto your ship for transport back to Earth. We're trying to keep it quiet as possible for now, until we can really crack Cerberus open, so as far as anyone is concerned, she's just a random solder._

 _As if._

 _I'm so sorry about this, Captain. If I hadn't gone away... well, I'll doubt myself in my own head, rather than on this letter. This, of all letters, that should never have to be written, that no mother should ever have to read._

 _I am, again, so sorry._

 _-G.V._

That was what he'd sent to her? If felt so... lame. But how did you tell a mother something like that? How did you tell 'mama Shepard', that her daughter had been mutilated like she had been by those people? That that daughter had been his best friend made it even worse. He felt sick with himself, standing here at the gaming booth. On the counter, he saw a copy of one of those retro Human games... the series that Sahara had loved, the _Legend of Zelda_.

He'd tried it, but most of the games were really meant for species with five fingers, not three. It had seemed nice, though, and Kaiden had certainly enjoyed it when he was introduced to it. He'd caught them staying up late, tunnel visioned on the game. 'Lovers in the game-night', he'd called them jokingly, causing Sahara to throw a pillow at him.

He wondered what Kaiden's reaction to his return would be? It had been so long... he didn't know.

So lost in though he was, that he didn't notice the ageing Human striding towards him until she came up fast on his left and whacked him up the back of the head. He yelped, whirling, but stopped himself just in time to tip his head in a way that both looked guilty, and hid his wounds. It was odd; he hadn't felt at all subconscious about it earlier.

"Two years!" Captain Shepard hissed angrily. "You show up after two years and it's to tell me Cerberus stole my child!?"

He opened his mouth to try and defend himself, but there were really no words to be said.

"What happened?" she demanded. She looked remarkably like her daughter, though her eyes were green instead of blue. Hard lines were drawn on her face, and her silvering blonde hair was tied up on a tight bun, her uniform done up neatly and without so much as a spec of dirt on it. She had a way of glaring that made you feel like your soul was being set on fire, and her al-around appearance had, according to Sahara, resulted in rumors circulating that she ate greenhorns for breakfast.

"I... I went to Omega. I was trying to do good there, but I couldn't risk those people finding connections to me." he tried lamely. Now that he said it out loud, 'for your own protection' sounded like an unforgivably lame excuse considering the circumstances.

"And you couldn't leave a note telling us you weren't dead or kidnapped, or any number of the things people have speculated having happened to you?" She shut her jaw tensely, eyes picking him apart. When next she spoke, her voice was like a string pulled too tight. "Turn your head."

"Hmm? Why?" he asked, though he knew trying to stall the question that was to come was pointless.

"Turn your head, Vakarian." she demanded. He stubbornly kept it still. With a frustrated noise, she gripped his fringe and forcefully turned his head, and it took all his self control not to yelp like a kicked puppy. She sucked in a small breath as his wounds were revealed. When she next spoke, her voice was gentler.

"What happened?"

* * *

Syrus watched as the young scott inhaled his food greedily. He shook his head.

"Fitz, you're going to hurt yourself eating like that." he scolded. The young engineer ignored him, instead taking a massive gulp of soda, causing the Turian to shake his head again.

"You're doing it again, Syrus." Rogue pointed out, taking a sip of her own drink.

"Doing what?" he asked, brow plates creasing with confusion.

"Mothering him. You're always mothering everybody." she pointed out. His mandibles flickered in indignation.

"I do not 'mother' people!" he protested. Sal shook his head in disagreement.

"Nope, sorry pal. You mother all of us. Did it to me last week, remember." the Drell pointed out. "You complained about my special diet."

"Your special diet that _excludes_ vegetables!" the Turian drawled. "My people are carnivorous by nature; _you_ don't have an excuse!"

"He says as Fitz devours his fourth piece of peanut-butter toast. Correction, the toast that sizzled in regular butter first." Rogue said.

"Fitz is Fitz; he can eat whatever he damn well pleases!" Syrus snapped, before taking a swig of dextro tea. It was a fine import from the Migrant Fleet; the Turian owner of the store had managed to get a sweet deal with a couple of passing Pilgrims, and Quarian tea was hard to come by for those who didn't have connections. _Say what you will about Quarians; their tea rocks house._

It was also expensive, due to the limited supply. But totally worth it, every drop.

"Tsk. Favoritism." Sal tsk'd.

"Hey Sal, why aren't you drooling for that Asari over there? Normally, you'd have gone gaga by this time." Fitz spoke for the first time all meal, swallowing and jerking his head in the direction of the indigo-skinned woman waiting at the counter. Sal leaned forwards, sighing, resting his chin on his hands.

"I found the one, earlier. Tila." he said the name slowly and luxuriously, then stiffened. " Silver eyes, blinking at me. Soft voice on the wind. One fleeting touch..."

"You know, it will never cease to creep me out when you do that..." Rogue commented, waving her spoon at him.

"Racist." he drawled back.

"Next week, 'the one', will be a girl named Annabell." Fitz whispered to Syrus, who chuckled and nodded in agreement, causing their Drell friend to glare at him.

"Hey, this one's really it this time! Really!" He cried, earning laughs all around.

"Mate, you said that about the last fifty girls you dated!" Fitz pointed out, smiling broadly as he teased their lovesick friend. It was good to see Fitz smile. He did it so little these days.

But as quickly as it had come, it was gone. He took in a sharp gasp, dropping his thankfully now-empty cup with a clatter, hands gripping his head. The table went silent as he took several shaky breaths. Syrus placed a worried hand on his friend's back.

"Is it bothering you again?" he asked softly. Even small noises made things worse when this happened. Fitz shook his head, but the tears that were starting to leak from his eyes spoke against his claim. Syrus looked up at Rogue.

"Take him back to the Tin Can. We'll wait for Garrus." she told him. He nodded, ans silently stood, one hand gripping Fitz's shoulder. The worst part was that it got worse every time. They really weren't sure how much more of it he could take.

Guiding the slightly quivering engineer back to the docks, Syrus could only wonder what had gone so wrong _that_ day.

* * *

"And then, well... the missile happened. I took a freaking missile to the face. And lived. That'll be one to tell the grand kids." he swirled his drink ruefully as he spoke, staring at the ice as it turned around.

"This isn't something to joke about, Garrus." the Captain chided, her own drink sitting steaming between her hands.

"Why not? It's hilarious. Guy is stupid enough not to read the signs, get's his whole team killed, takes missile to the face, gets recruited by complete strangers to rescue his best friend's body, and save the galaxy. It's the best joke in the galaxy, Captain." he told her bitterly.

"Some things are out of your control, Garrus. Stuff like this happens to the best of us." She told him, taking a sip of her tea.

"Ha! Name one person who failed more miserably than I did." he challenged. He wasn't thirsty, but took a drink anyway.

"Akuze." she reminded him, eyes intense. "But that wasn't Sahara's fault either. I myself once lost nearly my whole unit, but that was not my fault either. We were led into a trap. All of us were led into traps, and lost good people through no fault of our own. We were good. The other guys was just better enough to best us, to trick us, but we all walked away."

He didn't look up at her. In some ways, it made sense. But that didn't make it any easier. He'd trusted Sidonis with his life. His mistake. he should have known something was up, should have sensed it. That Sidonis would throw his, and all their lives away like that...

"You think this Rogue person means business?" she tossed aside the previous conversation; she had said her piece. She was counting on him to make something of it.

"Yes. It sure seems that way. I'm not sure if I'll be joining her, though. Maybe for a little while, I need to sort some things out. But with the supplies and equipment she's got, what she's asking is impossible. I could go out into public again and start making a fuss, but that didn't really get me anywhere two years ago, so I really don't see the point." he said. "If the Reapers are connected to the colonies disappearing, of course I'll look into it. Just another thing I failed to notice."

"No." The Captain shook her head. "It's just another thing the Council is sweeping under the carpet. Only a few brave news stations have gathered the guts to report the disappearances. It's a disgusting cover-up. 'Pirate and slavers', my butt. I know what raids like that look like, I saw Mindoir. This isn't that."

"I'm going in to see Anderson. I at least have to talk to him, see what else I've missed." he nodded. "After that... well, I'm not sure what will happen after that."

"I think I know." he looked up, and she rested one hand on his arm.

"You're going to take a few weeks down time and heal up. Don't run around shooting things until your ribs aren't threatening to cut up your insides." she 'suggested'. He snorted. _Sounds a bit like_ my _mom._ he suppressed a flinch at the thought that her Corpalis Syndrome would have gotten significantly worse. She probably wouldn't even remember him. Solana was going to _kill_ him...

"Yeah." he managed to rasp. "No rib-ripping, I swear on my gizzard."

"Good man." she told him, downing the last of her tea. She stood, pushing her chair in. "It's good to have you back, Garrus. now, if you don't mind, I have to bury my daughter. Again. Then, I'm going to pull out the teeth of the man who sanctioned the operation."

"Sorry. I already shot her to death back at the base. I'll give you the coordinates, if you feel like watching debris drift through space." he offered, remembering the satisfaction he'd gotten from shooting Lawson.

"Nah. I'll settle for...'interrogations'." she chuckled, an evil glint in her eyes. He suppressed a shudder. The Captain hadn't gotten a reputation for nothing.

"Alright. I'll contact you if I have to. And, uh, just between you and me... I'd prefer to tell my family I'm back in my own time." he added, looking at the table again. Shame flashed through him. Maybe he was just being a coward, maybe he was just vain, but... he didn't want to face them looking like _this_.

"Alright. But if you take too long, I'm calling them. Your sister has been tearing up half the galaxy looking for you." this did nothing but further his guilt. "So long, Garrus. Take care of yourself."

With that, she left. He watched as her form departed into the crowd, thinking. He looked at his drink. Dextro soda. Sahara had gotten him hooked on it. It gave one a funny feeling in the gizzard, but it was worth it in the end. _But maybe this funny feeling isn't from the soda._

It felt... good, in a way, to finally tell it all to someone. Like he wasn't the only one with the knowledge on his shoulders anymore. Wrex would never understand, and besides; guys didn't 'talk' to guys. Now that he'd told the Captain what had happened, he felt all the better for it. And he had a job to do now, one he'd been failing in.

He had to take on the Reapers. Nobody else was going to do it. He'd let despair get the better of him last time, he'd gone to Omega and now he'd paid the price in full. he would find Sidonis; he would make that Turian pay. But he also had something else to find. Someone else. Many someones. _Hundreds of thousands of colonists, disappearing without a trace. I'm coming to find you._

He emptied his cup in a few hasty gulps, slammed it on the table, and stood and left with a purpose.

* * *

"We did you a favor, you pyjaks!" Wrex growled at the holograms of the council. "I think the least we deserve for taking out that base, is a few ships and weapons! For all we know, there are other bases near Tuckanka!"

"If so, the CDEM will take care of them, as well as any other threats to the planet!" Valern argued. Anderson stood off to the side, sighing heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Maybe, if you were so generous as to share your source, we might consider trusting you with one or two weapons." Councilor Sparatus offered in his usual offensive drawl. Wrex was about to tell him to go 'jump in a lake', as Shepard's favorite insult had been, when the doors to the embassy opened. heads turned to see the gray Turian standing in the doorway, announcing himself not with words, but presence.

Then he strode forwards, jaw set, eyes hard. He gave Wrex a light push out of the way, and stood before the Council, hands resting lightly on the railing in front of the holograms.

"Garrus Vakarian." he introduced. "I'm back."

* * *

 **That moment he comes into the embassy, I was totally seeing Aragorn entering the Halls of Helms Deep. TOTALLY. I hope his introduction was epic enough for you.**

 **Not to worry, I am working on Ashley's one-shot. My creative spirits are just lacking at the moment. It might interest you to know that it takes place in the same continuity as this fic, so you'll get a glimpse at Sahara Shepard.**

 **And here I've finally gotten around to showing you some of the dynamic between the Rogues. I also suddenly realized I forgot Mordin existed; don't worry, he'll exist next chapter. Jayfeattheris Awesome just made a creepy Destiny/Mass Effect crossover, if anybody was looking for a Horror fix. You don't really need to know a lot about Destiny to read it, either.**

 **Just watched the Inauguration. the speech was nice, say what you will about Trump. I'm just glad it isn't Hilary; that lady gave me the creeps, and might be the reason the stereotype of 'overbearing, snobby feminist' exists. or it was the martians again.**

 **Jayfeatther agrees; the Martians are behind many conspiracies on our planet. We also believe they are responsible for multiple epidemics, including but not limiting to trampolines, global warming, and Human stupidity.**

 **We may never know.**

 **Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed Hannah's moment in the spotlight as Garrus' shrink, and the debate on whether or not pellets count as vomit. Before you get on me for that, it is logical to assume that Turians can cough those monsters up, seeing as they evolved as predators. Just a head canon on their biology.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	9. Having a Blast

_In which Garrus goes ape on the Council, and everyone has a bombtastic time!_

* * *

 ** _Alternatively..._**

 _"... we have dismissed that claim." Sparatus said, air-quoting. Shepard bristled, blue eyes glaring at him piercingly. Behind her, Garrus rolled his eyes, face palming, as if to say 'here we go again'. Anderson turned to Shepard witheringly._

 _"No-one else saw the VI on Illos that told you about the Reapers. And only you and your crew ever spoke to Sovereign." he told her. "I believe you, but without evidence, the others will continue to believe Saren was behind the Geth attacks."_

 _"Go to Illos!" the normally lighthearted Commander turned on the Council with what could have equated to the Human version of a snarl. "Talk to Vigil! Look at the remnants of Sovereign, and tell me that it's a Geth ship!"_

 _"The hologram on Illos was no longer functional when teams arrived, and no sufficient evidence was found proving Sovereign was not of Geth creation." Valern calmly seemed to bat his eyes and speak with honey. Shepard's fists clenched._

 _"Why would the_ Geth _follow Saren?" Garrus piped from her shoulder. The fresh patch of gauze bandages covering one side of his face still made her wince every time she saw it. Watching Garrus take that missile had been like watching a puppy get beaten to death. Except worse, and ten times more terrifying, because beaten puppies didn't sound like a Turian choking on his own blood with a hole blasted in the side of his head._

 _By a freaking_ missile _. Seriously,_ that _was overkill._

 _"He was an organic." her friend continued, eyeing Sparatus with a particularly predatory gaze. "Geth would never accept him as their learder, unless he was an agent for the Reapers!"_

 _"W-what are you doing here!" Sparatus sputtered as the now-mangled former C-Sec came into projection range. "Vakarian!? We thought you were-"_

 _"Dead?" Shepard finished, crossing her arms. Garrus copied her, smiling smugly. She hoped the good mood would stay; he wasn't the same since Omega. Actually, nothing was the same anymore; it had been two years for everyone else, but only a few weeks for her!_

 _"Like master, like student." he waggled his brow plates irritatingly at his elder. "Honey, I'm home!"_

 _Somewhere behind them, Jacob sniggered. The meeting would conclude, and they would leave without incident. But Cerberus always had a backup plan in case things hadn't gone right that day..._

* * *

"G-Garrus? You're lying!" the Turian Councilor sputtered. _Sparatus; still as unbearable as ever._

"Oh, I'm the real deal, Sparatus." he crossed his arms, glaring at the older Turian. "And you'll want to be _very_ careful in who you call a liar these days; you're putting the whole galaxy in danger."

"How so?" Tevos asked coolly. "And why should we take you at your word?"

"The Reapers are coming. The evidence is right in your face, you've had two years to prepare, and you've done _nothing_!" he snarled. "And you're going to take me at my word because I'm your only chance."

"Ah, yes, the so-called 'Reapers'." Sparatus sneered, air-quoting. " The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed that claim. They were clearly a delusion that Saren passed to Shepard-"

"Deny me my ships, councilor, but if you know what's good for you, you'll think _very_ carefully about what you say next." Wrex threatened, stepping in beside Garrus. "Powerless or not, you don't want to make an enemy of the Krogan people."

"The Reapers are a story. One that Saren used to manipulate Shepard, and one she foolishly chose to believe." _Sparatus, you just can't keep your mouth shut, can you?_

"Talk to Vigil on Illos! _Look_ , actually _look_ , at Sovereign's remains! Does that look like anything the Geth could have built? You saw that thing with your own eyes!" Garrus shouted, panting heavily in his rage. All the activity of the day was beginning to tax him, and sharp pains rang through his ribs and burns, his bad mandible stinging unbearably. To make matters worse, there was this horrible annoying ticking sound coming from nearby that he couldn't pinpoint exactly.

"The supposed VI on Illos was no longer functional when we got there. Little to no viable pieces of Saren's flagship remain for study, between looting and illegal salvage opps." Valern countered. Garrus clutched the railing so hard, he thought he might break his hands.

"Then explain the missing colonies! Who else can it be!?" he demanded, voice low and savage.

"Pirates. Slavers." Tevos told him, before shooting a pointed look at Anderson. "Whatever the reason, we cannot get involved in a purely Human matter."

Garrus laughed. He actually laughed at that, everyone in the room must have thought he was loosing it. He certainly _looked_ like he was losing it, no doubt.

"'Purely Human matter'." he chuckled, looking up at them maliciously. "This will be a problem for the rest of us soon enough, believe me councilors. The Humans are just the start. When the Relays shut down, and the Reapers pour though, you're going to wish you had listened to Shepard. To all of us."

"Council membership proves that a species can solve it's own problems, and help others with theirs-"

"Then why aren't you honoring that!" Garrus roared, cutting Tevos off. Spots danced dangerously in his vision, and he was practically heaving for breath now."People are going missing! Innocent people, families, _children_ , damnit! Are you incapable of helping fellow council species? Or is this race politics talking again?"

"You dare!" Sparatus snarled.

"Yes, I do! It was just like this two years ago, and it got good people killed. From all species. And from what I've seen, _you_ are the biggest offender, Councilor Sparatus." he accused, much to the shock of all in the room. To hear a Turian going off like this about such a subject was unheard of. "If you know what's good for the galaxy, you'll believe me when I say that the war heading in our direction will involve all species. And if you keep sticking your heads under the sand like offerages-"

"Ostriches." Anderson corrected.

"Like ostriches, then everyone is going to suffer for it!" he finished, nodding to Anderson. He _really_ wanted to sit down.

"Please, you must understand." Tevos tried to reason. "We cannot put the galaxy on alert because of a few odd claims. Many people do not believe the Reaper story. We cannot pass decisions that are against-"

"You're being a bunch of varren-brains because you don't want to lose your jobs?" Wrex interrupted. Tevos glared at him, clearly tired of being interrupted.

"Let's take, five, then resume the session." Anderson suggested. Garrus, drained, cast him a grateful glance.

"Very well." Sparatus nodded, mandibles pressed tight, and cut the line. All at once, Garrus felt like melting into a puddle of goo right there. It must have shown, because, Anderson gripped his shoulder to steady him.

"Ha! Did you see the look on that pyjak's face? Priceless!"Wrex boomed, laughing and pointing at the spot Sparatus had been standing. Garrus gave a noncommittal grunt, swaying on his feet. He'd practically ran the way here, and having a shouting match with the council hadn't helped.

 _"Having a shouting match with the council always helps! It keeps me from venting at someone else."_ He could practically hear Sahara chirping at his side, as Anderson led him to one of the couches on the far said of the room.

"You look like heck, Vakarian." he commented as he helped the Turian ease onto the seat. He leaned back against the soft leather, breathing deeply and fighting back the dizziness pressing at his mind.

"Feel like it, too." He said.

"The council are all idiots." Wrex growled, plopping down next to him.

"They're facing the unknown. They don't want to face the truth." Anderson shook his head, sitting down on Garrus' other side. "Where've you been? I could've used you here a while ago."

"Here and there. Saw the sights, got beat up by some Krogan, took a missile to the face." he explained exhaustedly. "I'd rather not talk about it. And I know I messed up, Councilor; no need to remind me. And I'm pretty sure my voice means nothing."

"Don't be so certain about that." the aging Human told him. Wrex gave a noncommittal grunt.

"Taking on Saren side by side with Shepard is part of the reason I rose up so quickly. _Respect_ , kid. It's all about respect." he poked his friend in the shoulder.

"The last time I gave a public statement, they basically took all their 'respect' for me and spit it in my face." Garrus snorted.

"The day my people are more polite than 'sensible folk', is the day the galaxy is lost." the chief deadpanned, earning a chuckled from the two others.

"Garrus, you're by Shepard's side in over half the vids taken during the Saren campaign. If there's any Turian who has a voice in galactic politics, it's you. You word means something." Anderson's eyes turned steely. "Heck, you were going to be a Specter. What happened, Vakarian? Why pass that up?"

"We can talk about that later." Garrus waved him off, closing his eyes in an attempt to steady his mind. "Right now, we've got a nerd spy, a squid, and a habitual egomaniac waiting on the other line for us. What were you two complaining about?"

"I was, once again, requesting aid to protect our colonies." Anderson started witheringly, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "The population of Freedom's Progress vanished about two weeks ago."

"Two weeks!?" the Turian exclaimed. "They're only just getting to you now? You're a Councilor! They should've met with you the day after it happened!"

"This is why I hate politicians." Wrex commented as Anderson nodded. _What is_ wrong _with these people?!_

What was the difference if the colony was Human or Turian? Asari or Salarian? The very thought that the Reapers might be behind this...

He could remember the first time he'd encountered a Husk. It had been... smaller. Like maybe it had once been a child. To say that the encounter had disturbed him was an understatement. He was a cop, raised by a cop, and most murders he'd investigated were usually nothing more violent than a gunshot wound. But seeing Humans impaled on spikes, being chased by creatures that used to be fellow sentient beings... it had driven something home. It had been the most terrifying, disgusting thing he'd ever witnessed, and upon learning the Husks had been Humans, he'd nearly thrown up.

He'd started wondering, imagining what other species might look like if the Reapers got a hold of them. Suffice it to say, he'd had trouble sleeping that night. He was a cop no longer, but a solder in a war that was bigger than any one people. And just the thought, of what might be happening to all those people that were being taken... Death was the best case scenario. Mass production of Husks was the worst. He couldn't, simply couldn't, no matter the species, stand by and let that happen to people knowing what they could be getting turned into at this very moment.

It didn't matter what species they were; the Reapers would come for them all, as Shepard had told them many, many times over. It would be a bloodbath. _Someone should care when a person disappears._ He almost laughed when the irony of that thought hit him.

"And like I said before; I need ships and guns. You would think taking out a major Cerberus operation would warrant just a little reward?" Wrex said angrily. "But no. The pyjaks won't give me one ship."

Garrus nodded, still keeping his eyes closed. He felt a little better now. Hopefully the next part of their shouting match wouldn't be so taxing. _Didn't Kaiden once say that talking to politicians was detrimental to his health? If only he could see me now..._

An idea popped into his head. A crazy idea, one that couldn't possibly work. He opened his eyes, mandibles parting in what could be the Turian equivalent to a maniacal grin.

"Hey Wrex... if you're up to it, I just had an idea..."

* * *

The consoles flickered back on, and the Councilors appeared once more. Garrus was, all too soon, on his feet once more.

"Ah, I see we're ready to continue." Sparatus cast a glare at his fellow Turian. "Now that 'Mr. Vakarian' is no longer threatening to collapse from exhaustion. I assume this miscellaneous health problem has been taken care of?"

"I'll give _you_ a miscellaneous health problem..." Wrex muttered, causing his two companions to snicker. _Always knows_ just _the thing to say..._

"Oh, no need to worry about me, Councilor. Taking a missile to the face is just such a hard thing to survive, and I'm still nursing the blow to my good looks." He chirped. "The fact that your face is uglier than mine helps somewhat, though. It reminds me there are people out there with bigger problems than my own."

This earned him a mutinous glare that brightened his day considerably. " _Any day we stick it to the Council's faces is a good day."_ Shepard had once said.

"Mr. Vakarian, do you have any _real_ business to discuss with the Council, the subject of Reapers not applying?" Tevos demanded, a heavy sigh in her voice as she pinched the bridge of her nose with on hand. Humans had a similar gesture, though it usually conveyed exasperation, while with Asari it usually conveyed impatience or irritation.

"Actually, I have a proposition for you and my buddies Wrex and Anderson here." he grinned devilishly. "Now, if I know the council-and I think of all people, I _really_ know the council- you want them out of your... ummm, hair? it is hair, isn't it?"

Anderson nodded in confirmation. _Good; so I haven't made a fool of myself again. That's good._

"Yes." Valern said cautiously.

"Well, we were just talking, the three of us. And I had this _crazy_ idea. Like, _really_ crazy." he spread his arms with exaggeration. "Now what if, what if you gave Wrex a few ships and weapons, and the Krogan expanded their patrol routs to include a few Human colonies, hmmm?"

"That is an... interesting concept." Valern stated thoughtfully. Sparatus looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Are your crazy, Valern!? Giving the Krogan even one ship is a bad idea!" he exclaimed. Tevos' eyes were narrowed, her expression indecisive.

"Think about it. Wrex would get his new toys." he nodded to the chief.

"And Anderson's people would have Krogan protection. It'd be enough to get him off your hide for a little while, at least." Wrex pointed out. Sparatus shook his head rapidly.

"And risk them attacking other colonies, or pirating other vessles?" he argued.

"And face the wrath of Urdnot Wrex? Certainly not." Anderson smiled at his Turian counterpart, whose mandibles were flickering angrily.

"They'd be patrolling on my orders. Clans _want_ to be my allies. Anyone who causes a ruckus is no longer welcomed at the Urdnot hub. After that... wel, let's just say, they usually aren't around for much longer." the Krogan chuckled pleasantly. Though to others it sounded more like he wanted to eat them for lunch.

"And how can we be sure you'll actually protect the Humans within these new routs?" Tevos asked. Sparatus tossed his head with an angry snarl.

"YOU CAN'T SERIOUSLY BE CONSIDERING THIS AS WELL!?" he roared. Wrex ignored him.

"Humans are squishy. Even squishier than the Asari and Salarians, and you guys are pretty squishy. But they're mean little squishies; I like them. And I know some of my clan's females are... what's the term? 'Bleeding hearts'? They like talking, and talking, and kids, and more talking. There are kids on those colonies. Normally, I wouldn't risk females, but if it gets that pyjak," he waved a hand at Sparatus, who bared his teeth in indignation, Garrus copying and mocking him, pulling his hands up like a rabbit's," to shut up, then I'll put a female as captain of each of the far patrol ships."

"How do you know they can keep the male crew members in check?" Valern asked as Garrus continued to mock the Turian Councilor, miming weeping and rubbing his eyes with his hands. Certainly, it was childish, but he hadn't had this much fun in weeks. And it was much less taxing than yelling at them.

"Like I said, they like talking. A lot. Sometimes, I pretend to listen. Then... well, let's just say, our females have a temper, too." he rubbed his forehead as if remembering a particularly painful headbutt while Garrus removed his thumb from his mouth and swiftly folded his hands behind his back as Anderson shot him a withering glance. "Trust me; they'll listen."

Tevos and Valern shared a look, while Sparatus glared at Garrus with the fury of a thousand suns. _What; you thought I was going to make it easy for you?_ He cooed in his mind, smiling charmingly at the Councilor. He flicked his mandibles in annoyance as his ears picked up the odd ticking sound once more. It somehow seemed... faster than before. _Something must be off with the projection's internal mechanics._ Sometimes, he really wished Turians didn't have such sharp hearing; he wouldn't have to walk through life dealing with sounds like this.

"I think..." Tevos began cautiously, "...it might be worth a try. For a little while, at least. A dry run or two, see if it works."

"Ha!" Wrex pounded his fist into his other hand victoriously, a fearsome grin spread across his face as Valern nodded and Sparatus scoffed, turning his head away from them.

"Be warned; any attempts to replicate the technology we send you will be met with hostile action." Valern cautioned.

"And misuse of these supplies will be punished severely." Tevos added, nodding.

"I see my word means nothing." Sparatus grumbled. He was ignored by all present. Garrus leaned forwards, deciding to try again for all the good it would do.

"Councilors, one more thing. About the Reapers-"

"There is nothing to talk about. I have important things to see to. This meeting is over." Sparatus growled. He hit the kill switch on his end, and vanished. Garrus glared at the remaining two councilors.

"Wrex has his ships, Anderson has protection. What more could you ask for?" Valern stated, disappearing as well, before Tevos also was no more.

"It's only a temporary solution." Anderson shook his head. "Only a couple of colonies will be protected. And even then; we still have no idea what we're dealing with."

"It's obviously the Reapers. Duh. " Wrex shrugged like it was a no-brainer.

"It would be pretty hard to hide an actual Reaper, Wrex. From what I've heard, there's no trace of the people who were taken. No signs of struggles. You saw the chaos Sovereign left in it's wake; maybe it's not an actual Reaper we're looking for. Someone working for them, maybe?" Garrus wondered out loud. Anderson sighed, rubbing his face with one hand.

"It's entirely possible." he said tiredly. It was moment's like this when the old solder's age became noticeable.

"How have you been?" he tried to start a conversation. The ticking was still going on.

"To be honest, serving as Humanities Councilor isn't how I expected to spend my twilight years." he said, walking across the balcony to look out at the presidium.

"If you get bored, you could always come to Tuchanka for some fun" Wrex invited. Anderson barked a laugh.

"You know I'd love to. But I got duties here." he told him. "Besides; I'm getting too old for action like that. frontline work is what you two are for. I just have to sit back and try to keep the world falling out from under us. Try."

"It looks like you've done a good job, for the most part." Garrus commented. _Seriously, where is that horrible sound coming from!?_

"If I'd done a good job, we would be shoring up defenses against the Reapers instead of pretending life is going on as normal after the Battle." he jerked his head to indicate the pristine presidium, which had been cleaned up nicely after the Reaper attack two years ago. He wondered if the Wards had been see to that nicely.

"I'm going to look in to the missing colonies, along with a couple of others. I could keep you updated, if you want." he offered, limping up beside the Human. Shepard's fondness for the ageing man had rubbed off on him; he was also a military guy, which made it him hard not to like for a Turian.

"That would be appreciated." they watched as the people below passed by, oblivious or perhaps blind to the danger lurking out in dark space, waiting to strike. The ticking grew faster. There was something off about it...

"So, am I allowed to ask where Kaiden or the old crew is? Or is it all classified?" he questioned. He heard Wrex hum thoughtfully somewhere behind him.

"Sorry, Garrus." Anderson shook his head with a dry smile. "Alenko's mission is classified. Can't detail it to an MIA Turian with a face like yours. As for the others... all got reassigned. Engineer Adams is doing pretty well, last I heard of him."

"Ha! _My_ face? What about Wrex's? He's no less pretty!" Garrus joked, trying to squash his disappointment. _Well, can't go giving Human secrets to Turians. That's understandable._

"Shut up Vakarian." Wrex growled from where he stood next to the consoles the council has been using.

"No need to get riled up-"

"Seriously, Garrus; can it!" the Krogan snapped. The others looked at him oddly as he tipped his head to the side, as if listening for something. Garrus felt his blood run cold.

"You can hear it, too?" he asked quietly, earning a slow nod. The Turian looked to Anderson. "You should get out of here."

Suddenly, Wrex strode over to Sparatus' console, and ripped it from the floor.

"BOMB!" he roared. Anderson and Garrus ran for the door, pain singing through his sides as he went. Turians could pick up frequencies most other species couldn't; he must have heard the bomb's machinations. _Made by someone new to the trade, if they hadn't taken Turian hearing into account. Council meetings weren't really kept secret, even holo-meetings. Sparatus must have heard it too, it was in his console. Maybe he hadn't realized what it was, or maybe he-_

Garrus' thought were cut off as they reached the door, Wrex tackling Anderson to the ground. He caught a glimpse of the chief's arm flashing out in his direction before the world roared in his ears. He was thrown against the wall just outside the room, and for several long moments, everything went black, his ears ringing. Something heavy was laying on top of him, and new agony had sprung up along his body from the impact, thought not as much as he would have expected. No pains from burns or shrapnel, as he would have expected.

He heard a muffled voice calling his name, and he managed to open his eyes. The door was on top of him, blasted out, and when he looked at his arm, he saw a biotic barrier flickering before fading completely. _Clever Krogan._

"M' okay..." he slurred, head and thoughts fuzzy as he tried to push the door off of him. He blinked as harsh light and smoke smell hit him as the door was lifted off of him, revealing a worried-looking Anderson, and an angry-looking Wrex, who also has a personal barrier on him, though it was still active.

"You aren't." The Human countered his previous statement, taking his arm and helping him to his feet. The world swayed beneath him, and his chest was tight with pain, making it difficult to breath.

"I'm starting..." he mused out loud, interrupted by a cough, "... to think I'm a bad luck charm."

People from neighboring embassies were coming out in a panic, rushing for the safety of the presidium. Wrex snapped at an Elcor as he nearly knocked the Human and Turian over in the mad rush to get out, before getting up on Garrus' other side. His legs kept refusing to work right, and knew he'd officially blown it this time as the two of them practically dragged him away from the blast site.

"First a missile, now this? You've had one heck of a time, Garrus." Anderson shook his head.

"Don't remind me." he groaned in response. _Why me!?_

"AGAIN! Dude, AGAIN!?" came a female voice he recognized with surprise as Rogue's as they descended the last of the steps. First responders were rushing around, orders were being yelled. Mordin was following the Human. "You got yourself blow up, AGAIN!? That has _got_ to be a galactic record!"

"Set over there." Mordin order, directing them to an abandoned corner. Wrex glanced at Garrus, as if to ask, _'can we trust him?'_

"He's okay, he's part of the Tin Can crew." he mumbled. They took him to the area without further question, Anderson helping to ease him against the wall.

"Maybe, I should hire a stunt actor." he commented as Wrex took out his shotgun, scanning the crowd with a distrustful red glare.

"Krogan should leave; might be accused of the crime." Mordin suggested. Wrex bristled at his words.

"Do I look stupid to you, Salarian? If I leave, I'll look guilty. I just got a bunch of new ships and guns; I'm not endangering that." he growled. His eyes flashed towards Garrus for a fraction of a second. "Besides; for all _I_ know, they'll come back to finish the job."

Garrus pressed his face against the wall, shutting his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of screaming, wailing, panicking. He tried focusing on breathing, and not on the new pain that had presented itself to him. _I should just hide in a cave for a while. Yeah, there's a good idea; hide in a cave until I'm better, but knowing my luck, the cave will turn out to be a volcano and it'll blow up, too._

He felt a sharp pinch on his neck, and reality faded.

* * *

 **Poor Garrus! Taking so much punishment in so short a time! At least he and Anderson had their handy-dandy Krogan with them. Alright, so we've barely taken one step, and Cerberus has started turning to the dark side already!? Amberstar, what is this madness!?**

 **Two words "Illusive Man".**

 **He's the crazy one, not me.**

 **Nah, Saturn's space Nazgul have about as much political power as a Geth on a Quarian liveship. BAM! Now, does that count as a triple reference or a double...**

 **It is only now that I appreciate the genius of the line "I'll give _you_ a miscellaneous health problem..." And let me know of what you think about the flash to the 'Canon' reality there. I thought it would be cool to, every once in a while, check in with how things would have been if Sahara really had come back. Obviously, in that reality there was no bomb, so who else could it be?**

 **Alright, so next few chapters we're looking at Garrus' recovery from that sucker called 'life as a Turian vigilante', and we'll be introducing a certain baby tank bred soon...**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	10. The Last and the Comfort

_In which Garrus has peace at last, and Javik is already in peril._

* * *

"Early reports suggest that the attempt to sabotage the alliance failed." the Illusive Man kept himself very well composed, very well, indeed, given the subject he was discussing. "Garrus Vakarian is confirmed to be alive, alive and still alive, thanks to Urdnot Wrex."

"Need I remind you," the quiet, lavish, Scotland accent said slowly, warning, "That the last thing we need, is a Krogan sympathizer in the form of Mr. Vakarian. He, is the last problem we need! He's only been on the radar for what? Two days? And look at the trouble he's stirring up! He has Anderson wrapped around his finger, and he's cozying up to Tuchanka! How did he go from being MIA to being our greatest threat in the space of thirty-six hours, pray do tell, Harper. _I want answers_."

"I assure you, Mr. Fittzgerald, I can only handle so many problems at once." Garrus being Archangel was something they hadn't anticipated. Let alone had they though he would charge their front door with an army of Krogan, kill his best operative... and somehow steal every last piece of bubble gum off of the station before blowing it up.

 ** _"Hmm. Cherry, or Watermelon?"_** _The Cerberus analyst shook her head, wondering if she was hearing and seeing things as she reviewed footage from the attack. A young Drell had confiscated the gum off some of the officers, and was indecisive about what to chew._

 _**"Dude, just take it all back on the Tin can."** The young Human woman with auburn hair reasoned. Another person moved in the background, helping the Krogan loot supplies._

 _**"Good idea."** the Drell nodded, and collected all the packs of gum, gathering them in his hands greedily, eye glittering. _

_**"Man, you've got what we call a 'fixation'."** A young black Human he recognized as Jacob Taylor shook his head at the alien._

 _**"Haters gonna hate; I love bubble gum."** The Drell countered. He spoke next into his earpiece. **"Hey, Wrex; do you think you could get your guys to... you know, gather up any gum they find for me?"**_

 _The Illusive man didn't hear the reply, but let out a 'kh' sound of exasperation, unable to believe what he was watching._

 _**"Because, gum is blazing. You really should try it; after the Humans introduced it, they even adapted a dextro version for Turians!"** he narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth in frustration. This footage was useless!_

 _He froze as someone in the background became visible._

 _"Freeze image!" he barked. He stood up, walking closer to get a better look. He pinched the area, zooming in on the face. Was that... He grinned. Yes; it was unmistakable. After all these years, he'd found Scott's long-lost investment..._

"Yes. I hear that Operative Lawson was killed, like I said." the other man said, completely unaware of what the leader of Cerberus had found in that seemingly mundane footage.

"Indeed. I'm calling you because she recommended the continuation of several operation before she died. I value her input greatly; they should be our top priority, next to Vakarian. I want you to contact our moles in the Andromeda Initiative; have them transmit the data they've gathered, I want everything, regardless of what securities they trip." he told him. Fitzgerald nodded. "And we need to start gathering the assets I had listed for Shepard. We still need them to fight the Collectors. Whether they want to... or not. Keep it slow, quiet. Start with Massani, work your way up from there. Sunject Zero should be secure within the week as well."

"Consider it done." he made a note on his data pad. "What else."

"For now? We are to resume monitoring and excavation of the dig site on Eden Prime with extreme prejudice." he lit a cigarette. "If we're correct, those fading signals belong to a Prothean VI, possibly another cryostasis vault like on Illos. It could prove invaluable."

"Again, consider it done." another note. "Extreme prejudice, you say? Well, if we go with speed and brute force rather than preservation, in theory we could get it done in a month or two. But the damage it could do-"

"Do it." the Illusive Man stood up, eyes burning. "The Reapers could be here any day. We need that information, or we won't survive."

The Scotsman nodded slowly, looking slightly hesitant. They were talking about destroying most of what had been ancient ground; possibly a battlefield for the last people the Reapers had fought. "Very well. we'll get it done."

The call was terminated. The Illusive Man tapped his ash tray, looking out at the star; his star, all his. Just as all was intended to be.

Meanwhile, deep beneath ancient ground, the second to last cryo pod was shut down to conserve the ever-dwindling power supply.

* * *

"Garrus?" he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He didn't want to wake up! There was a horrid beeping right in his ear... "Garrus?"

"Whaaaaaat?" he groaned, rolling over onto his side, and throwing one hand over his eyes. He sucked in a breath at the pain this caused, but he didn't care.

"Wake up! It's time to eat." it was another Turian. _Syrus?_

Reluctantly, though too curious to not to, he opened his eyes, blinking at the harsh light. He was in a hospital.

Again.

And it was, indeed, Syrus who sat next to him, a Turian frown on his face. He looked like he'd cleaned up nice, and Garrus wondered if the rest of the Rogues had taken the same opportunity. His eyes swept the room he was in, window overlooking the presidium and all. Wrex and Anderson were nowhere to be seen.

"Syrus? Where are the others?" he grunted, trying to push himself into a sitting position. His brethren pushed him back down by the shoulder gently.

"Anderson is fine, under Specter protection while authorities investigate." Syrus explained. "Wrex had to go back to Tuchanka, though Anderson had to vouch for him on account of the bomb's origin. Shoved C-Sec's own boots down their throats, should've heard him. Oh, and he told me to tell you 'not to die, because you own him a ryncol'. Or something around that line."

"Huh. Sounds like Wrex alright." he huffed. Honestly it felt a little lonely, though he wouldn't admit it, that the familiar face was now gone. Even if that familiar face had about as much tact and sympathy as an angry Thresher Maw.

"You're the only one who sustained heavy injuries. You've been out for almost a day now." Syrus continued.

"Where's my food." Garrus deadpanned. He was _starving_.

"I lied."

"You're mean. Now go get me some dextro waffles."

"Do those even exist?"

"Yup. Now, any leads on the bomb yet?"

"No." the other Turian shook his head, sighing and leaning back in his chair. "Nothing at all. But Rogue guesses Cerberus."

"Seems likely." Garrus nodded in agreement, shutting his eyes. Everything hurt a lot less, now that he was in a proper hospital. "Who's paying the bills?"

"Anderson. Quietly. 'No biggy', he says." Syrus waved the question off. "Mordin's been checking in on you, aside from me. Captain Shepard was here initially, five minutes into your surgery before she had to rush off on the _Orizaba_. You know, I don't think I've met anyone with worse luck than you before."

"Yeah. I keep getting reminded about that." he grumbled. Couldn't he _win_ something for once? Suddenly, Syrus looked skittish, and a little guilty.

"Alright, look. I was Rogue's idea, and Fitz and Mordin supported it. I told them we might not be able to afford it, but they countered me with the creds we got from the Cerberus base." he said a little too quickly. Garrus narrowed his eyes, dread piling inside of him.

"Syrus... what did you do?" he asked slowly.

"It wasn't _me_ ; it was Rogue, Mordin, and Fitz; they overruled me, and Sal wasn't around!" he bent down to pick something up off the floor. With a tragic face, Syrus hauled the half-grown cat into view with both hands. "It's a Maine Coon."

Garrus stared, dumbfounded at that animal presented before him. It had wide, silted, amber eyes, and a silvery-grey, whisp-like pelt. It blinked at him silently, and seemed almost predatory, but resigned to it's fate.

Now, after the Relay 314 Incident, Humans brought to the Citadel a species from their planet called 'dogs'. The aliens had been shown the creatures trained as police and military force, with keen senses and loyal dispositions. Naturally C-Sec had started training dogs soon afterwards. And if there was one thing Garrus Vakarian would never be ashamed to admit... was that he was a sucker for animals.

He liked dogs. _Really_ liked them. He'd kept a bag of treats in his desk back at C-Sec. Shepard had often mourned the fact she wasn't allowed a pet hamster aboard the _Normandy_. She had asked if he liked hamsters. He'd replied that his pet snake Spades liked hamsters. Spades was a ball python had been passed on to Solana(who had a reptile disposition), and was hopefully still alive; he'd been a companion during his youth and into his C-Sec days, and would no doubt be getting very old.

He liked animals. But his experience with cats was... limited.

"You got me a _pet_?" his mandibles parted in disbelief.

"Hey, they were going to euthanize him for being unclaimed for too long! And Mordin said that having an animal would be good for you. Then he looked at me funny, and..." Syrus' mandibles flickered. "Look, okay fine, it wasn't a good idea, but maybe I kind of wanted him, too."

Garrus stretched out his hands, and Syrus transferred to the animal to him. It blinked at him dolefully, and it's fur was soft in his hands. It leaned it's head down to sniff at his wrist, but didn't lick him. _Maybe it can sense I'm a dextro?_ He had always been very careful with Spades, and Solana had teased him in his youth about getting a dextro animal instead. But he loved _his_ snake, levo or no.

"So... why would a pet be good for me?" he asked, hesitant. This really was kind of a bad idea.

"Mordin said it would help you emotionally, and that having a pet helped some people with stress." Garrus lowered the kitten onto his chest, though still held on to it. "Then he pointed out it might help Fitz as well, and they both gave me this look, and then Rogue pulled on my fringe and started poking me until I caved..."

"Okay, okay, I get it." Garrus insisted. He let go of the kitten, and watched as it examined it's surroundings, before crawling up his chest. "Boy or girl?"

"A boy, I'm sure. No name that they told me of." the other Turian shrugged. "I-if you're going to keep it, that is."

The kitten stretched his neck out to sniff Garrus' face, and his mandible flicked in response. He lifted one hand, and rubbed the kitten's head, the small animal responding by rubbing his head against the Turian's hand. The fur was soft and warm, and the pleasant, vibrating purr he could feel and hear coming from the creature were almost Turian-like in nature. _Maybe he isn't... half bad._

"Well, maybe we can give... Dexirius, a chance." he relented, Syrus' fringe pricking up in surprise. "For the time being, at least. If worse comes to worst, we can always give him to some Humans. No get me food, slave."

"Of course, your majesty." the other Turian snorted, rising to his feet. He cast one last glance at Garrus and Dexirius before leaving. Alone, he continued to pet his new companion. It was strange but simple, the fact he now had a cat. Temporarily, perhaps, but still. The warm fur beneath his hands, the aliveness... he supposed it _did_ help somewhat.

He let out a sigh, and settled back further against his pillow, letting his hand rest on his chest. _A pet. Now, this is unexpected._ Dexirius let out a soft, questioning mew, sliding off of his chest to sniff at the bandages covering the side of his face, the soft kitten fuzz tickling his chin. He slid down completely, and Garrus was reminded of Spades with a pang as the kitten curled up next to his neck. Executor Pallin and numerous members of C-Sec would stare at and tease him, as he'd frequently walked around with his snake curled up in his cowl. He'd taken Spades with him to the Citadel because he was beginning to reach an advanced age, and could find the heart to leave him on Palaven when he was getting so old. In fact, by the time he'd joined up with Sahara, Spades had actually lived past the average life expectancy for his kind.

Sadly, it was unlikely he was still around. _If he his still alive... I'm going to get him a nice, juicy, fat rat._ Then again, he'd heard cats liked rats as well. Maybe, they could share one, if Spades had lost too many teeth.

* * *

 **I just really wanted a cat in here. You see all these fics where the character get cats. I mean, he's not Socks; he can't hold a candle to Legion's little tabby, but Dexirius will still play a part in the family. That, and I needed to do something _nice_ to Garrus.**

 **And yes, there is a high probability of an early Javik, be he'll be quite changed from his personality in-game, with what I've got planned if and when that happens. It'll also be strange writing him in peacetime... he'll still live his airlocks, though.**

 **The watermelon bubble gum needs to be thrown out an airlock. I just had to do that with Sal; he needs something to live for other than finding 'the one'.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	11. Falling Again

_In which the very sad and unfortunate truth is revealed to our favorite Geth..._

* * *

 **One Year, Three Weeks Previously...**

The Mobile Platform had made it to Noveria.

This planet, like Therum, like Feros, had been attacked by the heretics. Unlike Therum and Feros, however, this planet had viable, working, extranet access, though it had been reinforced since the attack. The scraps of information the platform had managed to obtain were nothing compared to the 'gold mine' access it was about to achieve.

With the ship set down, hidden in the cover of a snowy ravine, the platform made it's way up the mountains to the main facility, and eventually clambered onto the roof. System warnings notified it that the exposed hardware from the Eden Prime incident was experiencing function difficulty due to the cold. It reached up one hand to cover the area and try to block the wind. while it looked around fro something that might be able to replace the missing chassis; even a partial cover would benefit the platform greatly. It had not experienced this kind of problem before, but then again, it hadn't experienced too much extreme weather since the incident.

Finding nothing it could make repairs with without warranting suspicion from the organics, it simply kept gripping the heavily affected area and walked ahead. There was a transmitter nearby that it could hack into, and after bypassing multiple firewalls, it managed to break into the extranet service. It could detect lif signs down below, and there was a myriad of large, long windows looking into the complex. Scans showed that even inside, the temperature was at an uncomfortable zone for most organics.

As it tapped into the extranet, consensus was achieved to break the over-cautious demeanor the runtimes had been operating on since Eden Prime, and observe the organics. The platform leaned over the edge and looked through the window. Visual sensors adjusted appropriately on account of the upside-down position.

There were multiple organics of multiple species communing in the are within. Salarians, Humans, Turians, Asari, Volus... even one or two Hanar, with their respective Drell escorts by their sides. As it scanned the extranet on information on Commander Shepard, the platform saw something that made it pause, another organic display that confused it. _Shepard-Commander present on planet Virmire... one associate(Ashley Williams) terminated in nuclear blast..._

Two Turians, a male and a female. They were standing close together, the male holding both the female's hands in his own. A brief passive scan revealed chemical neural reactions associated with happiness, and that the female was in the very early stages of pregnancy.

One hand still covering the exposed components near it's shoulder, the platform leaned out a little more for a better look. The two Turians leaned their heads towards each other, nuzzling their foreheads together, before the male tapped her forehead with his chin. He then looked down at her abdominal region, resting one hand over it, the Turian equivalent to a broad smile on his face as he said something that the platform could not hear. _Shepard-Commander led chase on planet Illos to Conduit. Associates Garrus Vakarian and Creator Tali'Zorah nar Rayya accompanied her._

The two organics were no doubt coupled, and seemed to be happy, maybe celebrating the continuation of their genetic line. The platform's eye plates flickered. That didn't sound... _right_. No. They were happy... because they were about to add another member to their familial collective. There. Consensus agreed, _that_ conclusion sounded right. In an involuntary action, it nodded to itself.

It's hand slipped. It tried to reassert it's grip, but ended up trying to grab a patch of ice, and ended up tumbling over the edge. It's other hand lashed out as it tried to halt it's sliding down the window, and one flailing foot found purchase on one of many clumps of ice stuck to the surface. On full alert, it made a visual scan of the room beyond the glass; none of the organics seemed to have noticed the platform. It moved to pull itself back up, but then froze.

 _Shepard-Commander killed over planet Alchera approximately eleven months previously._

That couldn't be right. If she was dead... surely it would have found that information sooner...

 _Reports conflict, Shepard-Commander killed by unknown ship, Shepard-Commander... killed by Geth._ Normandy _terminated. Total twenty-one crew members terminated. Official reports confirmed; Shepard-Commander terminated by Geth attack on_ SSV Normandy _. Memorial speeches by associates; confirmed. Certificate of death; confirmed. Dog tags retrieved; unconfirmed. Note; Garrus Vakarian disappearance shortly after speech on the Citadel presidium. Conclusion; Shepard-Commander terminated by heretic Geth._

 _Geth._

It would spend days trying to figure out what kind of processing glitch made the platform do it. What exactly passed through it's runtimes at that moment was something it didn't understand. All it knew, was that the moment it received that information, it cocked back it's right arm, balling it's hand up into a fist, and punched the glass with all the force a synthetic was capable of creating.

Now _that_ , the organics noticed. The glass splintered where the platform's fist made contact, and large, long cracks spread along the glass. It looked at it's fist with what might have seemed to be amazement to any watching, as it's runtimes tried to figure out what had caused the involuntary action. but new movement quickly caught it's attention. Organics where moving. Their mouths opened in screams that it couldn't hear, pointing, or running. It looked at the two Turians, who had finally noticed it.

The female had pulled her hands close to the abdominal region, as if to protect the child growing within her, and the male, a snarl on his face, placed himself between her and the platform, despite the fact he was unarmed. He would protect both the beings behind him with his own life as the cost if necessary.

Self-sacrifice. Another organic behavior to ponder later.

It's attention was drawn to the weapons being pointed at it by the guards gathering within. A large dog(species tag; German Shepard), was barking, on the leash of one of the Humans. The guards took aim and fired. The glass cracked and shattered, and as it fell into the room, it heard the Turian pair both scream as sharp glass came down on top of them, the male trying to shield his partner from the falling shards.

After it hit the ground, it did a visual scan, and saw them both laying on the floor, the male panting heavily on top of the female, blood spreading in points along his clothes from where glass shards stuck out of his body. Several runtimes considered this. The pair had been in full view of the guards... yet they had disregarded the endangerment of noncombatants. Unarmed citizens. Why?

It took the rifle off it's back; it had to defend itself, no point in trying to run this time, though the loss of organic life would be regrettable. It jumped behind a desk, and leaned outwards to fire, catching one Human in the shoulder and downing a Turian. The female Turian on the floor screamed as bullets whizzed by her head, trying to drag her partner behind one of the fountains. This battle had to end soon. Further harm would come to the civilian elements if the firefight continued. But the only way to end this quickly would be swift termination of either side...

Consensus was achieve; retreating would result in no further harm to non-combatants, and would likely satisfy the hostile elements as well. It looked at where the window used to be. Standing and spraying bullets in the direction of the guards, it ran in at an angle, away from the Turians with the intent of vaulting over the window sill and into the snow.

Unfortunately, none of the runtimes had factored the dog into this plan.

It didn't register the danger until the creature was upon it. With a mighty snarl, it sank it's fangs into the platform's right upper arm with what was admittedly an impressive bite force. The sudden weight crashing into it's side caused the platform to stumble, falling to the floor. The dog, growling, thrashed it's head from side to side, bite force and effectiveness increasing with each thrash. The act would have severely damaged the animal's teeth, and as it shoved at the dog vainly, it began to look like termination of the animal or relent in the attack was the only way the platform could be freed.

It gave the creature an almighty kick, but the action resulted in a devastating twisting motion in the dog's grip. It's teeth bleeding at the gums from biting the synthetic, he had at least, somehow, countering all possible simulations, managed to rip off a rather large chunk of the platform's arm. Wasting no time now that it was free, it abandoned it's rifle and dashed to the window, before jumping over the concrete wall...

And falling over the edge of the mountain.

The many runtimes would have long to ponder the fact that they had never taken notice of the precipice before. And then there was new ceasing of functionality to it's right arm to be taken into account. Rather violently, the platform was thrown in the wind as it hit several outcroppings along the cliff face. Primary system alerts flooded across all runtimes, much like on Eden Prime, and visual sensors were on the verge of critical failure by the time it managed to reach out with it's left arm and grab a rocky edge.

It only just managed to pull itself up one-handed, and when it reached the flat ground, it lay there for several long moments, despite the urgency of the current situation and against all logic. It reached up to cover the exposed components of it's shoulder, and then did a visual and internal scans of the new damage.

Right arm mobile functions; urgent repairs required.

Visual sensors; minor repairs required.

External passive sensors; major repairs required on left shoulder, lower left leg, abdominal region, upper right back.

Linguistic interface; diagnostic and minor repairs recommended.

It did a visual scan of the cliff face. It would take a while to climb back up and return to the ship. It would have to do jury-rigged repairs to it's arm if it even wanted a chance of reaching the top. It removed it's hand from the exposed components, eye plates flickering as it's runtimes processed the new information in the snow. It's mission... find Commander Shepard. It had failed... failed so completely. She was already dead. Killed by... _Geth_.

Heretics, that followed the Old Machines. Geth, true Geth, made their own future. The Commander... had a future, once. To make contact with this platform... it's mission... failed. Because of the heretics. The chances for true Geth survival had dwindled significantly because of this action, if the simulations were in any way accurate. The Old Machines were coming... they had to be.

And the knowledge of Commander Shepard had been lost to it's own kind. Still laying on it's side, it did the linguistic diagnostic, it's voice crackling, corrupted by the fall, the words it chose involuntary and unknown in every aspect.

"We are sorry."

It repaired itself in the snow, and climbed the cliff in the blizzard, and, the most half-frozen to death a synthetic could get, left Noveria without looking back, making way to Virmire.

* * *

 **Okay, WOW, poor Legion, am I right? I feel like I just kicked a puppy. I always imagined that discovering his goal was killed by his own species had to stink for Legion, even though it wasn't really the Geth that did it. All the official reports said 'Geth', though, and that's what it learned.**

 **Garrus is back in action next chapter, though, so look forwards to that! Also, don't ask me why this chapter came so fast; I don't know why, I just chose not to question it. Maybe it's the fact that I love writing this character, or maybe it's because I feel bad about throwing him off another cliff.**

 **Anyway, here comes Grunt!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	12. Fresh From The Tank

_In which our favorite tank-born takes his first steps in the world..._

* * *

The heavy body of Okeer slumped to the floor with a thud. Twelve men in heavy white, orange-accented armor, prowled throughout the room. One, in a darker, lighter suit, was downloading information from the Warlord's console before wiping the information drives.

Two men got up on either side of Okeer, and each took one of his arms, dragging him out the opposite door. Jedore lay dead in the room downstairs. The leader, who had taken the liberty of knocking out the Krogan(which was no small task, even when you knew with pressure points to strike), looked up at the adolescent Krogan suspended in the tank. On one hand, it could be valuable.

On the other... they really didn't have the time. They got Okeer; that was what mattered. He turned to walk out of the room.

"Finish up. Then kill that thing." he ordered carelessly. He was about to walk out the door when he heard it. A loud bang from outside the room, near the tank. All heads turned in the direction of the door.

It burst forwards with a blast of explosives, skittering across the ground and nearly hitting one of the Cerberus grunts. Through the smoke, a figure appeared, clad in blue armor that had seen far better days, visor shining bright through the haze left by the explosion, the rifle in his hand cradled like a professional. The Turian spoke.

"I'm here to kick butt and chew bubble gum." He finished slamming the thermal clip into his weapon, eyes glinting with a look that could kill. "And I'm all out of dextro bubble gum."

The leader stared at him blankly, before turning out the other door.

"Kill him, too." he said simply. Guns were raised in the Turian's direction, and he rolled into the room, setting up behind a table as they opened fire. He leaned out of cover and shot the engineer in black just as he hastily injected something into the tank's main systems. Noticing the young krogan within, he cursed mentally, and called out back to the hall he'd come in from.

"Syrus, get the Krogan out of there; they've put something into that tank fluid!" he yelled. The other Turian, dressed in some rather worn and outdated light armor, ran in as Garrus gave suppressing fire, the tight quarters providing a neat funnel for the Cerberus operative. Syrus ran behind the tank for cover, narrowly avoiding being shot, and activated the Omnitool he'd borrowed from Fitz.

"Make it quick!" he yelled to his fellow, as Sal charged in, firing his two predator pistols at anything white that moved. Garrus winced at the fact he was wearing nothing but his cloths and his ratty coat, but the Drell had an itchy trigger finger that needed soothing, and he had to admit, taking this place on would have been a lot harder with just him in Syrus, the only ones in the group who had proper armor.

"They have Okeer!" Sal announced as he ducked behind cover next to Garrus.

"We know!" both Turians replied. With a final input, the tank opened, fluid draining from the inside. Garrus _really_ didn't like this. Asking for the tank to be opened had been instinct; there was someone in there, after all, and whatever Cerberus had put in there couldn't be good. He didn't usually just leap into things like this... but the damage had already been done.

The remaining Cerberus troops, about five now that Sal had gunned two of them down, saw what was happening, and took aim at the young Krogan as he fell to his knees, Syrus trying to steady him. _Oh,_ _no, you don't!_

He vaulted over the hospital bed and issued a double-kick to the abdomen of the nearest solder, sending him crashing into one of his fellows as Garrus failed to stick the landing and fell to the floor, sharp pain stinging through his side. He was, after little over two weeks, mostly healed, but was still horribly sore in places, and had argued extensively with Mordin and Syrus about going ground-side for this.

He was just so _tired_ of laying around doing nothing. He _needed_ to shoot something, and when Rogue found out Cerberus was making a move on Okeer, he's decided it was time to get back in the game. Zaeed Massani, one of the other people of interest on Cerberus' list, had already dropped off the radar. Now, they were getting away with the mad Krogan Warlord.

Meanwhile, while Cerberus was briefly distracted by the mutilated Turian, Syrus pulled on the arm of the Krogan, who was coughing up the fluid and grabbing at his throat some, presumably because of whatever Cerberus had done. Yanking the heavy youngster to the ground, he hid behind the tank, readying his shotgun as the Krogan recovered his breath.

"Just stay down for now! We've got you cov-"

What he wasn't expecting was for his gun to be jerk violently out of his hands by the Krogan, who stood, and ran headlong at the nearest Cerberus operative with a mighty roar despite the fact he'd just coughed up poison.

"I. AM. KROGAN!" he rammed his shoulder into one man, sending him flying, before blasting the second in the stomach with Syrus' shotgun, and lifting a third up by the neck, crushing his throat, before slamming him to the ground and shooting him in the head. Sal pumped the last, astonished solder full of lead from behind, and as Garrus stood up, the Krogan's eyes flashed in his direction dangerously.

Before anyone could stop him, he charged the recently recovered Turian, slamming him against the wall, before pinning him there, arm pressed to Garrus' throat. He tried to blink away the stars that blew up in his vision from the attack. _Just when I was getting better, too... what's next? I get to be trampled on by a pack of Thresher Maws?_

"Stop!" he managed to choke out as Sal and Syrus moved forwards, guns trained on the young Krogan.

"Turian. Male. You're either stupid or smart." the Krogan growled. "One wrong move, I'll kill you. Of course, I'll kill you anyway."

"Why?" this was a strange situation. Why was the Krogan in that tank in the first place, anyway? One of Okeer's clones? He seemed a bit more... _developed_ than the mindless berserkers they had encountered on the way up.

"Okeer's imprint failed. I heard it all in the imprints, but the words are hollow. I don't care for him, his enemies, his kin, or his clan. No feelings whatsoever. Without a reason that is mine, one fight is as good as any other." he replied, eyes a shocking silver-blue that Garrus had never seen in a Krogan before. "But before I kill you, I need a name."

"Garrus Vakarian, expert sniper, killing machine, charmer; and I don't take threats likely." he rasped, casting a warning glance at his two companions. The Krogan let out a snort.

"Not _your_ name; mine!" he insisted, applying more pressure to Garrus' throat, though whether it was intentional or not, he couldn't tell. "Hmmm. Grunt. He called me that a lot. It has no meaning. It will do. I am Grunt, and if you are worthy of all the titles you apply to yourself, you will prove it, and try to destroy me."

"Prove it? Just look at my face!" He twisted his head around to show the gauze and still-healing damage. "How many people can say they survived a missile to the face? I'm worthy, alright. And if it's a fight you're looking for, there's one out there right now! A big fight, with enemies you can't possibly imagine, with steaks higher than any war there ever was. It can be your fight, _if_ you let me go."

The Krogan blinked. His head plates weren't fully formed yet, his skin a soft, almost coppery-tan color, and uncalloused, unscarred, lacking the epidermal beatings of Tuchanka. His eyes were reminiscent of Rogue's, in a way, and he looked a bit... blank and confused, at the same time. He seemed to consider the Turian's offer, looking elsewhere.

"That is..." he said slowly, "Acceptable."

Grunt backed off, letting Garrus' drop to floor, panting, rubbing his throat as he looked up at the young Krogan. It surprised him that he hadn't spoken ill of Turians yet. _Then again, he did say that he felt nothing for Okeer's enemies._

"But if you are weak and choose weak enemies," Grunt warned, eyes burning. "I will be forced to kill you."

"Well, I think our enemies are quite worthy, don't doubt me on that." Grunt's head snapped in Sal's direction at the comment, and the Drell, though he still had his weapons lowered, stepped back a small amount.

"Cerberus is getting away." Syrus pointed out. "With Okeer."

"So what?" Grunt snorted, to everyone's surprise. "He was weak enough to get himself captured; why waste our time with him?"

 _"Because everyone Cerberus takes, is a point taken away from us."_ Rogue's voice sounded from the intercom. He really _did_ feel nothing for Okeer... _"_ _And unfortunately they just started to break orbit, despite my best attempts to hack into their systems."_

"I thought you could hack anything, Rouge?" Garrus commented as Grunt gave a start at the sound of her voice. "Surely their ship's firewalls couldn't give you that much trouble?"

 _"One does not simply hack into Cerberus in under three minutes."_ she replied sagely. _"They had a shuttle waiting right outside, they're out of range now. We could try chasing them, but Fitz would try and rip my head off if for even suggesting pushing our ship that far."_

"I like the sound of this... 'Fitz'. When can I meet him?" Grunt... grunted, looking eager. _Oh,_ _dear._

"Later. Just so you know, he's not a warrior. He's an engineer." Syrus warned. "He's off-limits."

"I'll be the judge of that." Grunt boasted, warranting a dangerous look from the younger of the two Turians. If there was one thing he had learned from his short time with the Rogues, it was that they, especially Syrus, were very protective and secretive of Fitz. Never ask about the implants, never ask about his odder habits, never ask why he caught Mordin and Syrus comforting and tending to the shaking engineer once in the middle of the night...

He'd asked the Salarian about it, but all he got was a tight-lipped lecture about doctor-patient confidentiality.

"Don't distract him." Garrus stepped in. "He's probably the only thing that holds the bulkheads together."

 _"Guys, I get you're all buddying up down there, but we need to go! I think some of the local filth have finally noticed our ship..."_ Rogue's voice was strained, and he could imagine her staring at a merc with that... _look_ of hers, like she trying to lay an egg or something, but was actually trying to make you burst into flame.

"Grunt..." Garrus addressed the young Krogan slowly. His eyes snapped to the Turian in an unsettling manner, and he wonders how things would be on the Tin Can once Grunt remembered their species were enemies. "We're going to the ship now. Let's go."

An unsettling snarl that might have been a smile or sneer did nothing to quell the misgiving feeling that was working it's way under his neck scales.

* * *

"This... is your ship!?" he exclaimed. It was small, ramshackle, _pathetic_ -looking. The floor shook under his feet, an he sneered with distaste. "This rust bucket isn't worth standing on!"

"We call it the 'Rusty Tin Can' for a reason." the pale brown Turian(he couldn't remember his name, and he didn't care), pointed out, banging on the hull of the ship lightly with the back of his hand. Still sneering, Grunt trudged up the rest of the short ram, and entered the ship.

It was just as much in a state on the inside as it was on the outside. It had a 'ruined' sort of atmosphere to it, thought things looked like someone had tried to stay organized as far as loose pieces went. It was small, cramped... like the tank. He didn't like it, and just looking at the place made him want to rip it apart. His eyes narrowed critiquely as he examined a nearby piece of piping, which had been repaired with little more than duct tape.

"Everyone's on board, go ahead Syrus." Garrus said, punching the button that raised the ramp, trapping Grunt within the filthy ship. He wanted to throw something. The pale brown Turian(Syrus), had gone quickly to what Grunt assumed to be the ship's cockpit, and a new smell came to him, very different than the Turians or the Drell, and very soon he found himself face to face with his very first Human.

"Why, 'ello!" she chirped, a wide, crazy grin on her face(their faces were so squishy-looking), and for a moment he was startled by her eyes. They were silver-blue. Wasn't that the same color his were(he didn't know, and this made him feel like punching something, stupid Okeer)?

"Welcome aboard, Grunt! I'm Rogue, and rule number one is now 'don't step on Dexirius', number two is 'always carry a knife', three is 'minimize your farting as much as you can because this is a small ship'." she listed, shaking his hand and talking so fast he nearly missed what she was saying.

"Knives are useless. Just shoot it." (this was what his imprints told him) He grunted, leering at the pyjak-like sapient.

"Hey, you never know when one might come in handy." Rogue shrugged, still grinning stupidly. "Try and find a place to sleep if you can. Most of us sleep in the room next to the bathroom. Oh, and try not to kill Mordin. He'll be sticking you with a needle later, by the way. "Immuno boosters' he says. 'Ouch' I say."

"No-one's sticking me with anything." He was _so_ getting rid of these weirdos. He suddenly found his eyes drawn to the heavy pistols strapped to her waist. One had a sharp curve, like a bird's talon, sticking out of the butt of the handle, and the other had a similar attachment, blunt and wrapped in thick fabric.

"What are those?" he pointed at them. He wanted that taloned one. He could smash people's skulls open with it... maybe he could take it... if she couldn't stop him, she didn't deserve the weapon in the fist place.

"Please and thank you." she chirped.

"What?" (it didn't make any sense)what was she talking about? He had to be _polite_?

"This one is Please..." she took out the one with the talon, holding it high, before taking out the blunt one, "And this one is Thank You. One's for asking, one's for cracking. Give me any problems, like those mercs, you get shot. Give me what I want, you get knocked out and I leave you to drool on the carpet while I skip away to watch Super Nanny."

For some reason, grunt smiled. He _liked_ that. A gruesome, toothy grin that looked like a snarl, a laugh that was all his coming from out of his throat. for a few moments, she looked indecisive, as if wonder whether to point the guns at him or not, before giving a loose grin of her own.

"Well... uh... go get settled? Try not to damage the bulkhead?" she holstered her guns, but kept one hand on Please as she walked away, as if to assure him that she _would_ use it(smart Human).

Grunt started to walk down after her, trying to learn his surroundings. But as he passed by a mirror hung haphazardly on the wall, he paused, looking into it. One hand reached up to touch the corner of his eye, to run his fingers over his forming head plates, to feel along his jaws, test it. yes. His eyes _were_ silver-blue. just like Rogue's. He bared his teeth at the reflection, satisfied by the image it created.

Maybe, it was a warrior's color.

* * *

 **I know most people see grunt as having regular blue eyes, but to me, they've always been more silver-blue if anything. Or maybe the quality of my TV is shoddy. Pfft, whatever. he's here now, and I finally remembered to add in Rogue's custom guns.**

 **An yay! Sarcasm has joined us! yet another loyal follower from the Destiny fandom. Maybe jsm won't be so lonely anymore...**

 **And Jayfeatther and I just pre-ordered the Super Delux Mass Effect Andromeda. I just wanna say... I miss the space hamster already. He was way cuter. And for some reason, some part of me sees Jaal having a Javik-fish level pyjak fixation, and I really still think that Prothean is the reason my fish keep going missing...**

 **Here's to hoping our angaran doesn't have a thing for exotic food...**

 **Also, I added a few things to the first chapter!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	13. Letters and Escapes

_In which Garrus asks for help, and a hostage is saved..._

* * *

 _Wrex._

 _I have a problem. No-one else to turn to. I'm doing fine, by the way; I can finally shoot without my ribs protesting every movement. But I need to know... how do you handle teenagers? Specifically, Krogan teenagers. Don't ask, but I got this kid named Grunt prowling around in the sleeping room, glaring at the walls like they're an offense to his existence._

 _I need help. Please, I have no idea if he's past the puberty stage, or what will happen if he hasn't already, and if Krogan puberty is coming, I need a warning, or at least I need to know how to reign him in. I hear Humans get overemotional at this point in their lives. My kind get headache's like you wouldn't believe(only males, though; it's when our head crests start to grow out in earnest)._

 _But there is one thing that is universal and that is crankiness. I just have to say... thank goodness Grunt's not a woman. I don't think we would survive a temper like that, not a on a Krogan scale._

 _Sending well-wishes, and in desperate need of help,_

 _Garrus._

The Turian leaned back in his seat as he sent the letter, adjusting the icepack pressed to his side. He heaved a sigh, running one hand over his face. With the addition of Grunt to the crew of the Tin Can, things had just gotten desperately complicated. The adjustments done at the Citadel were nothing; they needed more space! And things would get even worse as they kept rescuing the people on Cerberus' list.

Rogue had sent an anonymous warning to the Blue Suns prison ship, Purgatory. They weren't going after Jack themselves; someone like that... they couldn't have a person like that on the Tin Can. And word on the channels was that they were going to collect the thief, Goto, very soon. The thief that Rogue didn't want anywhere near their already fragile funds, but the only way to get to her was during the drop off. And then there was Tali...

His talons clenched. _They were only_ considering _her. They were_ considering _a lot of people. There's no reason to think they might collect..._

"Garrus, need to check cybernetics." Mordin's quick voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He shifted into a more accessible sitting position. Syrus and the doctor had both immediately sent him to the 'med bay' upon takeoff.

"Make it quick." he grumbled tilting his head obligingly. It didn't hurt as much as it had, but it always made him wince to feel the tender, healing flesh stretch beneath the gauze patch. Mordin came up beside him, a fresh patch set on the bed, and began to carefully peel the old one of the Turian's face.

"Grunt give you any problems?" he asked, voice slurred as he tried his best to avoid moving his bad mandible as much as he could.

"Minimal. Detached from information of imprints, doesn't care about Salarian, or Turians." the doc gave a sniff. "No emotion. Only Krogan instincts. Could be problematic. Fine, physically, though. Image of perfect Krogan health. Never experienced Tuchanka, never maimed by wilderness. Free from the health burdens. Still has genophage, though."

Garrus gave a small nod, suppressing a shudder as his wound stung, Mordin peeling the rest of the patch back. He felt... exposed. Like a clam that had a hole in it's shell. The burns were healing, gradually, but he was guaranteed a rather nasty scar. The cybernetic placements managed his hearing on that side of his head, as well as blood regulation. A small part of his skull had been replaced with metal, and he could always feel the pins. The grafted synthetic patch on his windpipe had long since healed and fused with the true tissues, to where it didn't tickle to talk or breath anymore.

None of this compensating tech showed on the outside, even with his patch off, not unless you looked very closely. His ear implants showed slightly, and the flesh over the other implants was sunken, thin, and more tender than the rest of the wound. He winced as Mordin gingerly cleaned the area, tipping Garrus' head up slightly to get a better look at the burns on his throat. The disinfectant still stung, but the feeling of a fresh gauze patch soon cooled the stingy pain.

"Goto was sighted at Citadel." Mordin stated. "Cerberus after her; escaped. Very impressive."

"How did you guys get footage of her?" he asked, surprised, running one talon over the fresh patch.

"People often careless when running for their lives. Must have realized she was being played." the Salarian said matter-of-factly. "Rogue sent out signal, trying to catch her attention. Unlikely to respond."

"Hmm." he nodded. _Even with all her skills, Rogue still has her limits._ He was continueously asking himself how she had stayed off the radar with skills like hers, and why she hadn't been able to afford a good ship; someone with her skills would have been snatched up by any numebr of companies, with a very fancy pay. But Rogue's skills aside, a paranoid thief the likes of Goto was unlikely to appear again, and he got the distinct feeling that even Cerberus wouldn't be able to find her.

And if they did... well, nobody would hear about it.

* * *

Kasumi didn't take well to betrayal(unless it was her doing the betraying). Or trickery(unless is her her doing the tricking). Or people taking advantage of Keiji(that was _so_ not cool). She was lucky she knew how to scent out a trap when she saw one... and that she was _so_ good at escaping.

 _And_ so _good at invading!_ She thought as she crouched, eating a packet of peanuts within a box in the cargo hold of the ship Cerberus had arrived in. Correction- the ship they'd used to try and capture her. They would be searching the whole of Citadel space for her, but she would be hiding under their noses the whole time! Ha!

And, she would get answers. Answers, and a whole lot of pocket change.

The ship rocked, and she wiped her hands off on her shirt before activating her omnitool and logging in to the tap she'd put in their comms, feeding into her earpiece. There was a slight buzz before everything became clear.

 _"...getting away!"_ one voice said ruefully.

 _"You think I don't know that?"_ another voice snapped. _"But they need this guy disposed of, and we need some more resources. Now open the freaking airlock and get ready to dock."_

Kasumi hastily put on the mask piece of her helmet. She was seriously considering trading it for a mask that just covered her mouth and nose; helmets were oh so very clunky, and it was hard to fit a hood over them! She wrapped up her peanut packet as the room outside depressurized, and the air shields activated moments afterwards. Stuffing the packet in her pocket to finish later, she opened the lid just a peep.

There was no sign of anyone yet. She carefully, taking note of the camera placements, slowly lifted the lid and extracted herself from the box, before replacing it gently and activating her cloak, stretching luxuriously now that she was free. _Boy, I hate stowing away. Always so cramped!_

Now, to find out who needed 'disposing' of. She slipped in behind the man who had come to trick her as he walked through the cargo bay, and onto the landing pad. open stars shone all around them, but she didn't recognize the nearby nebula. She was careful to keep up with him and his partner as they descended into the base.

 _"Mister Kasko and Ham, your package will be in hall C, holding room B. Go ahead and space him into a star; those suits have homing beacons, we've had trouble deactivating his. Take his Omni with you. I think you'll find the information... incentive, to find miss Goto."_ A voice came from over the intercoms. Her curiosity peaked, but a chill ran though her veins. _What are you hiding..._

She kept close but careful to her pursuers, occasionally pick-pocketing an unwary worker as she went(she might as well get something for herself out of this). When they finally came to the aforementioned door within the aforementioned hall, she was beginning to once more long for her peanuts. She was having a serious craving!

The door opened, and her breath caught in her throat.

A Quarian was slumped against the wall, tucked into a corner, arms wrapped around his legs. He was shivering violently, with his face pressed into his knees, incoherent whimpers audible from behind his mask. he seemed to curl tighter as the door opened, voice pitching. She couldn't be certain, but he sounded young to her. _Poor thing... and they want to_ space _him!?_ A bullet would be far more merciful than putting him through the further terror of spending his final moments trapped in an airlock or floating in a vacuum.

"Right, lets take care of this." the lead Cerberus goon grunted, drawing his pistol. Anger flashed through her. "Help me with the body."

With a strong kick to the back of the neck for one man, and a choke hold for the other, Kasumi brought them down. The Quarian screamed, falling completely to the floor, curling in on himself in a tight ball of terror.

Letting the second man slump to the floor, and deactivating her cloak, she rushed up to him, and crouched by his side, shaking his shoulder.

"Go away!" he wailed in fear. She tried to pry his hand off his helmet, gripping it firmly.

"No. I'm here to help you escape. We need to hurry!" she urged him. More shuddered ran up his spine, and she felt like screaming aloud in frustration. There were _cameras_ in here! The longer they stayed, the more danger they were in.

"I n-need to hide... the monsters... the monsters w-will get me... have to get out... n-no, need to hide..." he sobbed. An idea clicked into her brain.

"no, you have the right idea. We need to get out. the monsters have found us." he let out a choked whimper. "We need to run. Can you run with me? We can only outrun them, and find somewhere new to hide, if we run together. Can you run with me?"

She felt the tension in his body relax slightly, the coiling in his spine ease, his whimpers ceasing to give way only to shaky gasps. His fingers wrapped around hers, and she squeezed lightly.

"Can you run?" she asked again, trying to keep the strain out of her voice. There had to be a shuttle here they could steal. he head moved shakily... in a nod.

"Y... yes. W-we can find a place to h-hide..." he shakily tried to get up, but Kasumi had to hold him firm against the tremors that shook his body. _Oh dear. He's not just scared; he's sick!_

 _That_ was very bad. She glanced at his wrist, remembering what the voice over the comms had said. He was still wearing his Omnitool. _Good. At least I can find out what makes this poor thing so important..._

She was also glad that Quarians were so light-built, otherwise, she would've had some serious trouble. Thankfully, she only needed to use one arm, slung under his shoulders, to support him, and was free to use her free hand to shoot the Cerberus guards that tried to come at them from the other end of the hall, causing the Quarian to whimper and shutter.

"Don't worry; those monsters are dead now, they can't hurt us. I won't let anything hurt us while we run, I promise." she reassured him.

"N-no... not monsters..." he quailed, and she gave his shoulders a squeeze to try and keep him I the present. "Husks... but the monsters will come... they always come... keelah.."

That's _a bit odd._ She could investigate later; right now they had to get out, and she had to get this little guy back to the Migrant Fleet before he got worse. She had no idea what to do with a sick Quarian, and he needed help.

Heart pounding, with the limping, ill Quarian at her side, it was a wonder, really, that she managed to make it to the shuttle she'd hoped for. This was obviously a very minor facility, considering all the guards that came after her were wearing very light armor, and the previous owner of the pistol she's confiscated had been using armor-piercing rounds. The Quarian cringed violently with each shot fired by either side, and she kept hearing a eerie moan cutting off deep in his chest.

"Get in here. There you go." she eased him into the airlock, his steps shaky and uncertain. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a new group of guards; but the one in lead had enough sense to wear heavy armor. "I'll be in soon."

She fired, heart clenching every time she pulled the trigger. She always preferred to incapacitate rather than kill. She wouldn't lie; the sight of blood made her a wee bit woozy. To know she had taken a life... even woozier.

The two thin-skinned lackeys at the rear went down fairly easily, but the brute with the armor took a bit more, and he managed to get more than a few shots off at her. She nailed him in the chest, and he went down, but at the same time, bright, horrible pain lanced through her shoulder, and she screamed. A three-fingered hand darted out the doorway in the corner of her vision, gripping her arm and yanking her inside the airlock. She stumbled, falling onto her back, vision blurred with pain and tears as she clutched the wound, the shuddering Quarian punching the button to close the door before collapsing with a choked wail.

"H-hey, I'm okay!" she protested. _Ow, ow, ow! Asteroids and space urchins!_ "No crying aloud here! We did it! We escaped, they can't get to us."

Wincing, she sat up, using the hand of her injured arm to tap his wrist. He took her hand, clinging to it as if for dear life. He was young, he had to have been on his Pilgrimage. He was just some poor kid caught up with Cerberus. A poor, hurt, very frightened kid. She supposed the fact she was wearing a mask might have helped, with her hood on it suddenly occurred to her she must look a bit like a Quarian.

Kasumi wasn't sure how she managed to get him and herself up to the cockpit before Cerberus broke through the airlock. She somehow managed to get the ship out of there, managed to lose the few Cerberus fighters in an asteroid field, before slinging through the nearest relay; to where, she never found out. She was bleeding too much, and one of the last things she remembered before blacking out was herself and the Quarian, shivering next to each other, as the hypnotizing lights of FTL travel danced across the windows, and as her peanut craving worsened to unbearable new heights.

* * *

 **Poor Veetor and Kasumi; they aren't having a very good day, are they?**

 **I think I forgot to mention at some point, that the Rogues found nothing at freedoms progress, and poor Veetor and company were already gone. I'll be including that in the next chapter, though, so don't wait up!**

 **Yeah, that Angaran is about to become 'The Most Interesting Man in The Galaxy'. I keep hearing about this... Rise of the Talimancers? What ARE we going to call Jaal shippers? Oh... hehe... 'Jaal'... HAHA! Here's a pun for you;**

 **"Howdy Jaaaal!"**

 **Therefore, we should call Jaal shippers, 'Howdies'. He'll be the most popular space cowboy. And I think those play-through videos got you covered, don't worry. And they WILL be stealing a VERY SPECIAL SHIP from Cerberus in the far future. Let's say Legion is involved and leave it at that for now.. hmmm? Please don't go!**

 **Plus, I love steaks.^^**

 **...By. :/**


	14. The Monsters

_In which Tali puts a face to a dark menace..._

* * *

 _"Need... leave... very sick... back in bed..."_

Voices floated around her, a dull throb in her head, a sharp twinge in her shoulder. _By all the bubble gum variety packs... what happened?_ She groaned internally.

 _"No! We have to stay together... case we have to run!"_ She knew that voice from somewhere... _"T-the monsters will come for us... always do!"_

 _"Veetor... safe here. You're sick... have an infection. Come on, let's go back to your bed..."_

Her memories clicked into place. Cerberus, stowing away, finding that poor Quarian, getting shot... She forced her eyes open, blinking as lights burned her vision. _Oh, boy..._

She was in a plain, sterile gray room. She could feel bandages wrapped around her upper arm where the bullet had struck, and she was aware of the bed beneath her, the beep of medical equipment. The Quarian from before was standing over her bed, while a female in a dark red-brown suite was trying to reason with him. He was still shaking, though the tremors were less violent than before, though only a little. Unfortunately, her vision was more than a little blurry, and she was certain she was on some sort of drug.

"Sh-she's awake! S-see?" the male stuttered, grabbing her arm when he saw her eyes open.

"Ow- _wie_." Kasumi made a face. "I am not going to do that again. _Whoa_... there's like... six of you guys in here..."

"N-no there isn't!" the male protested. "It's only me! And Shiya."

"She's been given some painkillers, Veetor. She's very hurt, and she's not in her right mind." the Quarian she guessed was 'Shiya' said, along with her doubles. Veetor's grip tightened.

"Then we should s-stay together! If they c-come for us... someone has to help her run!" he insisted nervously, head swiveling from side to side as if his monsters would come rushing out of the walls and attack them. She almost imagined them doing so.

"We're in the middle of the Fleet." Shiya told him gently, moving closer. "Nobody can get to you. Either of you."

"You don't know that!" he exclaimed panickedly.

"Me thinks it's safe, bucko." Kasumi slurred. "I trust the doc lady here. Kinda wanna know what's with all the yipping baboons, though."

"W-what?" Veetor asked in confusion, before looking back at the doctor with new alarm in his voice. "There's something wrong with her!"

"No, Veetor, she's been given medicine for her wound. She's disoriented because of the drugs, and she'll be fine soon." It occurred to Kasumi that Shiya must have extraordinary patience to deal with Veetor... especially with those damn baboons rioting all over the place!

"I'll be right as rain in a sunshine!" she patted his arm reassuringly. "No monsters here! Probably should give your Omnitool to someone, I think it's _super_ important."

"Th-the data on the m-monsters..." he stuttered. Shiya moved in closer to him, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Veetor? What data?" she asked. He let go of Kasumi and brought up his Omnitool.

"T-the monsters, when they came... they took everybody..."

* * *

 _Veetor'Nara had never liked crowds or loud noises, or scary situations. They all made his brain go blank, his heart pound, his lung tighten. Being so prone to anxiety attacks in such a manner came as a severe disadvantage living on a Quarian ship, and he'd been more relieved than he ever thought possible to go on his Pilgrimage, to get away from the crowds, to see what was really out there._

 _He'd liked the idea of helping a small colony. Nice, secluded, normal people, lots of space, lots of room to breath, plenty of technical problems that he could help with. Humans seemed nice. So why not go to a Human colony? Their faces were very Quarian, they were the newest kid on the galactic stage, they were interesting._

 _So why not Freedom's Progress?_

 _He'd actually been received quite well, considering he was a Quarian, and the general taboo on his kind. He'd come with his own shipment of dextro foods, so that wasn't an issue until much later. 'A helpful little angel' they had called him, as he spent his days tinkering with their tech, upgrading it or fixing it, improving some of their security software, repairing some of their farming equipment._

 _He'd stayed with an aging Japanese woman named Kumi, a kind woman by all accounts, nearing the end of her days. She'd given him a room in her own home, even took the liberty of ordering some dextro shipments when he ran out. She'd even begun to teach him her home language; it had been surprisingly easy to start learning, in many ways Japanese reminded him a bit of Khelish._

 _But then_ that _night came._

 _He'd been cleaning up after dinner. Kumi was fast asleep in her chair, he'd made sure she was warm enough, a blanket draped over her. Then, a sound like a million roaring thunderclaps vibrated through the air, and he'd dropped the plate he'd been cleaning, the sound of it shattering on the floor covered up by what was unmistakably the sound of a ship entering the atmosphere._

 _He'd rushed outside, looked up at the sky. And there it had been, the mother ship of the monsters, descending on the colony with a black cloud rushing down ahead of it. In the back of his mind, the simple fact tugged at him that a ship that large should not have been able to take off and land from the ground, but it wouldn't be landing if it couldn't take off again, therefore this ship couldn't be natural._

 _Then the screaming started, and his mind went blank._

 _He'd ran back inside, a startled Kumi staggering on wobbling legs, asking what was happening. He'd only said they had to run. He'd grabbed her wrist, her voice cried out with terror, they'd ran, trying to get to the woods. They could be safe if they lost themselves in the trees._

 _But the insects... the insects had found them anyway. Kumi stumbled, fell. He went back, tried to get her up again. Bugs in the trees. She told him to hide. And like the coward he was, he ran, but didn't get far, so he hid. The bugs found her, stung her, froze her. For some reason, something in the back of his mind had been thinking clearly, and he'd activated his Omnitool, recording the reading, the dark energy. Then, the bugs found him. Stung him. His body had seized up, his suit had been breached. The stingers must have been strong to breach his suite mesh._

 _He could only sit and wit in terror. For some reason, the stasis must have affected his infection as well, for he didn't start to feel feverish at all until it faded away. But he was frozen, forced to watch, to record, as the monsters came and took Kumi away, tossed her frail body carelessly into a coffin, and taken her away. He could have screamed out in terror, there was not a scarier moment in his life until that one, as he waited, waited, waited for the monsters to return and take him away._

 _He'd unfrozen. They were gone. But they would be back._

 _He'd ran, ran to the security bunker. He'd watched the footage, scanned for life signs. They really had taken everyone. Nobody escaped. They_ would _be back, for_ him _. He put the vids on his Omnitool as well. The monsters came back. he sent the mechs out._

 _The men in white and orange armor came, and took him away. He'd thought he'd seen another Quarian running after them as he was taken away._

* * *

"I recorded the data on my Omnitool. L-lots of readings... dark energy..." he finished what seemed to be the short version of what happened. "They'll come for me... they will... th-they get everybody, no-one e-escapes!"

"That's _really_ creepy." Kasumi commented drowsily, unconsciousness tugging at her mind. She hoped nobody had stolen her peanuts.

"Veetor, may I barrow your Omnitool?" Shiya asked kindly, holding out her hand. "We might need it to stop the monsters if they come."

She couldn't see Veetor's face, but he seemed to look uncertain. He looked down at his tool, fidgeting with it for a few moments, before taking it off and placing it in Shiya's hand.

"Okay." he said reluctantly.

"Now, this woman needs her sleep. How about you come to your bed, and get some sleep too, Veetor? We'll keep you both safe." the doctor continued.

"Okay." he relented, sounding reluctant and afraid, letting her lead him away.

"Nighty night!" Kasumi called after him. "Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

* * *

Veetor's sudden and miraculous return had come as a shock. The mission to retrieve him had been disastrous; Prazza had gotten himself and his men killed, and _Cerberus_ had swooped in and taken the pilgrim before she could get to him. They had never expected to see him again.

And then his suite's transponder had pinged the signal they had still been casting out hopelessly. They'd found him in a drifting Cerberus shuttle near the Hawking Etta relay, with a Human woman half bled to death beside him. She had woken up a little while ago, after the feverish and delirious Veetor had wandered into her room. But more pressing was what Elan'Shiya had delivered to her afterwards.

And as Tali watched the unidentified aliens loading Humans into coffin-like structures, with strange insects buzzing all round in the air, she felt her blood run cold.

When on Freedom's Progress, she'd thought it strange. She hadn't heard about what was happening to the colonies until then, but afterwards, she'd done her digging. She'd found no less than nearly a dozen colonies had their populations wiped off the map without a trace, most of it covered up by the government. No evidence, no signs of a struggle. _Pirates_ , and _slavers_ ; _that_ was who they were blaming. _Those bosh'tets..._

She couldn't help but remember two years ago. A race that attacked Human colonies. That turned their populations into Husks, awful shells of innocent people. These weren't Geth... but the Geth had worked for the Reapers. And though they weren't turning the people into Husks on the spot, she got the horrible feeling that something hideous was happening to them behind the scenes.

"Oh... keelah..." she murmured as she watched. She knew the Reapers were a danger. She knew they were coming, but what could she do? Nobody would listen to her, not even her own people. Garrus had tried his best, but then he disappeared. She didn't know what Wrex had done, though she suspected he'd gone back to Tuchanka, and she'd gotten out of touch with Liara and Kaiden.

 _Everything would be so much_ easier _if Shepard were still alive._ The death of the Commander was where the galaxy had started to go wrong. Only weeks afterwards, the bad press had started, much to all their horrors. Soon, Shepard's good name had been beaten, trampled on, and dragged through the political mud. Kaiden had been apoplectic. Liara had cried some(and so had herself). She was pretty sure Wrex had taken his anger out on the nearest bulkhead whenever he felt like it.

The Krogan had actually, in a mildly drunk fit, barged his way through the presidium, shoved Ambassador Udina off stage, and proceeded, in the angriest speech any Krogan had ever given, to call the Council(except Anderson) every insult he could think of, yelling into the mic while C-Sec tried(admittedly halfheartedly; they had clearly been enjoying the smack to the politicians more they they were probably willing to admit) to remove him from the scene. 'Spineless pyjaks' was the nicest thing he'd said about them.

But second only to Kaiden, who'd been something more to Shepard, the most upset person of them all had been Garrus. He and Shepard he been the tightest of friends, and her death had devastated him. Then, the politics had sent him into a downwards spiral, while she had to watch from a distance. Even now, nobody knew what had happened to him, and that was, perhaps, the worst part of all.

But here, in her hands, on Veetor's Omnitool, was something that she could use to make a difference. Taking a deep breath in and out, she turned the recordings off. _I have to bring this to Anderson!_ This data could save thousands of lives, she had to bring this to the Humans.

She brought her father up on comms.

"Dad, I need to go to the Citadel. _Right now_." she asserted.

 _"What for?"_ came the tired reply. _Keelah, I didn't realize it was so late!_

"There's... I have to bring something to the Human Councilor. It's life or death, father, thousands of people are in danger because of this." _Please, please let me go!_

 _"I don't know. I remember what happened the last time I let you lead a group out..."_ Her fists clenched.

"Admiral, this isn't a combat situation. And Prazza was an idiot. This _needs_ to be done _now_." Several moments of silence in which the sounds of the ship around her seemed to rise in volume drastically.

 _"Alright, fine."_ his exasperated sigh came, making her let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. _"But this time, you're getting a real team with you."_

"Oh, keelah, I don't need marines-"

 _"Tali this isn't an argument-"_

"-to babysit me!"

 _"-they're coming with you. By the stars, if it makes you feel better, I'll make sure it's people you know!"_

Tali through herself back in her seat with a frustrated groan as he cut the line. _Why me!? I mean, seriously, sometimes he acts like I'm still in my bubble..._

She knew he was only trying to do good. But really, she'd spent half a year fighting Geth, aboard an Alliance vessel, with a Krogan and a Turian, _and_ an Asari; she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself on a leisurely stroll through the presidium. She picked up Veetor's Omnitool. In her hands was the most precious piece of information in the galaxy. _I ought to copy the data to my own tool, just in case._

She began the transfer, unaware that her trip to the Citadel would be anything but uneventful.

* * *

 **Again, poor Veetor.**

 **Don't worry; I'll try to keep this as compelling as I do my Destiny stuff. Hopefully quality won't drop even when I start to get bored with it. And don;t worry; we've all had some of those 'I'm a moron' moments, and yes, the Howdies are thick in number already. Probably the same people who were Talimancers and Garrus fangirls. I have to agree, the Andromeda crew has some VERY big shoes to fill. Sadly, as is the case with most sequels, even with all the sweet upgrades, I have a feeling the trilogy and it's characters will always be the best of the series.**

 **... I feel like I'm going to a funeral, ugh. Actually, technically speaking, at the point Andromeda takes place, Liara, Grunt, possibly Wrex and Javik(because honestly, we have no idea how long it naturally takes a Prothean to kick the bucket) are going to be the only originals left alive back in the Milky way. Thats... really sad to know that, actually. We kind of are going to a funeral.**

 **Whoops, I forgot to mention EDI. *glares at S.A.M.***

 **Things are going to start to pick up here soon. As in... Horizon. Already. And once we get a little fluff in story side, the 'loyalty missions' will start. I'm trying to think of something to do for all the Rogues... maybe not a 'loyalty mission' per say, but something that explains how they ended up deciding to fight for the safety of the galaxy in a beat up old ship, no plan, no help, and too many ideas. It owuld feel lame just to do a 'loyalty' styled thing when we already have that.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	15. Where Do You Start

_In which Tali has a bittersweet day with a side order of emotions..._

* * *

To say she was shocked would be an understatement. When Tali docked at the Citadel, went through the very slow C-Sec customs with Kal'Reegar in tow, and went up to the presidium, the last thing she expected to find was the Human Embassy a smoldering ruin. She stood, mouth agape, staring stupidly at the police line still cutting off the area. _Oh, keelah... Anderson..._

"Well... this is bad." Reegar stated the obvious.

Why hadn't they heard about this!? Judging by the clean-up efforts, this had happened a while ago. _Curse our disconnect from the galaxy!_

"You looking for something?" A nearby Turian asked, clad in C-Sec armor. Tali gave herself a small shake.

"Sorry, it's just... I hadn't heard..." she waved a hand in the direction of the burnt-out embassy. "Is Councilor Anderson alright?"

"Alright, and under constant Spectre guard for the last few weeks." he confirmed, the rush of relief inside of her more than enough to make up for the veiled threat. "You have business with him?"

"Yes, actually." _Alright, let's get this done._ "I have some information on the missing Human colonies. I have to speak with him immediately."

"Missing colonies? What missing colonies?" his mandibles flicked in genuine surprise. "How do you _lose_ a colony?"

"The buildings are still intact. Nothings messed up, no signs of struggles." Kal'Reegar enlightened him. "But the whole population's missing. Nearly over a dozen hit by now, it ain't pirates or slavers, I'm telling you that. It's too clean, and it's not natural. Why haven't you heard?"

"Why haven't _you_ heard the Councilor was nearly killed?" the Turian retorted, though he looked a bit less at ease with this new piece of information.

"We don't get a lot of news out at the Fleet. It's a problem." Reegar offered.

"But thousands of people go missing without a trace? It's kind of hard not to notice, especially when you can pick up all their signals. Or lack thereof." Tali added. She hoped he would remember this, that he would spread the word. People needed to know. "Now, could you please point me to Anderson?"

"Sorry, there's a several month wait list. I can't just barge in and leave you alone with him." the Turian shifted on his feet nervously.

"But I won't be alone with him; he'll have his Spectre guards. And I think the colonists will thank you." she narrowed her eyes under her mask, irritation flashing through her. _I don't have time for this!_

The Turian heaved a heavy sigh, obviously weighing his options. On one hand, lead a potential threat to the Councilor. On the other, put countless lives at risk. In the end, he made his choice.

"Okay, just follow me. And don't give me any reason to shoot, Quarian." he added.

"I won't if you don't, sir." Reegar warned. She rolled her eyes.

* * *

The temporary embassy had been set up in one of the upper presidium floors. Even now, she couldn't get used to how big everything was, how much space there was. The Citadel really was a marvel of engineering. _Too bad it was built by the Reapers..._ She would never look at this station the same way again. It was, as Vigil had worded it, a trap. A trap that countless species had fallen into for millions of years.

Part of her didn't feel safe being on this station.

The C-Sec guard poked his head through the door to the temporary quarters, clearing his throat. "Sir, there's, uh, there's someone here to see you. I could tell them to go register an appointment...?"

"No need. Let them in." the familiar voice responded. The Turian backed out, jerking his head to indicate she should enter.

"Thank you." she said as she passed him and entered the room. It was, for the most part, a blue theme, which matched Anderson perfectly, in her opinion. A balcony overlooking the presidium was tucked along the side behind his desk, and there were several floppy-leaved plants in pots all around. Two Asari Spectres were watching her intently from the moment she and Reegar entered. Anderson himself appeared to have been in the middle of some paperwork, and didn't appear to have suffered any from the explosion. His eyes lit up when he saw it was her.

"Tali'Zorah." he breathed. "I'll be damned. Some exciting month I've been having."

"It's good to see you, too, Councilor." she told him earnestly, approaching his desk. He stood, walking around it, the Spectres tensing.

"Please, just Anderson." he insisted, shaking her hand.

"Sir-" on of the guards began. _Keelah, she looks like she's going to blow a gasket!_ To use Ashley's terms.

"It's alright, she's an old friend." he raised his hand to indicate she should settle down, before looking at Reegar. "And this is...?"

"Kal'Reagar, Quarian Marines." she introduced. The two shook hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Reegar said. "Tali's had good things to say about you."

"I wouldn't want anything but." the ageing Human smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"I wish it was under better circumstances that I'm here, Anderson." She began, wringing her hands. "I've got... well, I have something to show you. It's better you see it for yourself."

He frowned as she brought up Veetor's Omnitool. "May I use your computer?"

"Go ahead." the poor Asari really looked like they were trying not to cry at this point, hands gripping their guns so tight, she thought they might pop a few tendons. She sat back in the seat, taking no time to admire how is was super comfy, and pulled the security footage from Freedoms Progress up on the screen. She rolled back slightly as Anderson leaned in to get a better look, his frown deepening as he watched what she had previously.

"This footage is from the Omnitool of one of our Pilgrims. He wanted to spend his Pilgrimage helping a small colony, so he went to Freedom's Progress. We found him a few days ago, after he escaped from a group called Cerberus, and this is what he had." she explained. "There's more, too. Sensor readings, sound recordings. A count of all the people that were taken..."

"Tali, this is..." words seemed to fail him, and she place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Those were _his_ people being loaded up and stolen like that. No matter how much one sympathized, it only ever hit home when it was one's own species on the line in these kinds of situations. The best she and others could do was say 'I'm sorry'. She couldn't imagine how he might feel, but if she tried to picture Quarians being loaded up by those creatures instead of Humans, she got a queasy feeling that she didn't like.

"I don't know what they are. Nobody does. But they're behind the attacks." she told him quietly. The Asari were leaning in, trying to get a closer look. Tali froze the image. "The data is all I can give you. I've got additional information attached to it, I hope it can be of some help."

She froze in surprise when the Councilor turned and hugged her, before patting him on the back lightly, unsure of how else to respond. When he pulled away, he looked like he might cry, but there was a dark grin on his face.

"Months upon years of looking and asking the Council for help, and it takes a Quarian to make groundbreaking progress!" he exclaimed. He looked at the nearest guard. "Why can't you guys be like that?"

This earned him a glare from them, and a light snicker from Reegar. The image of a Quarian Spectre came unbidden into her mind. _Yeah, like_ that _'ll ever happen._ She scoffed internally.

"I'm glad to been able to help. I'll make sure our Pilgrim know how much good this is going to do." she said, careful not to name any names. Poor Veetor didn't have to be involved in this any further than he already was.

"I should give the kid a medal." Anderson said wryly, and she knew that he meant it. She shook her head.

"He'd prefer to remain anonymous. The attack and Cerberus really shook him." she explained. Something dark entered Anderson's eyes, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

"Could... you three leave us for a few moments?" his hand shot up as one of the Asari opened her mouth to protest. "No butts. I know how to fight a damn Quarian, even if she did attack."

Jaws set angrily, the Spectre's left, and Reegar gave a worried sort of nod in her direction before following them. Anderson drew up another chair and sat down as a knot in her stomach tightened.

"Tali... has Garrus contacted you?" _That_ was _not_ what she had been expecting.

"Wha-no! Keelah, even if he tried at this point, my address had changed..." she trailed off. "Did... did you get a lead on him?"

Was it too much to hope?

"More than a lead." Anderson confirmed. "He strode into my office with Wrex, spat at the Council, and then we got blow up together."

"Oh, _keelah_!" She gripped at her hands tightly, dizziness flashing through her, eyes stinging as images of the burnt-out building danced in her mind, which added gruesome and unnecessary imaginings of familiar Turian corpses to the scene. "Is he alright!?"

"Relax, he's fine." he assured her. "Got roughed up, but he left the Citadel nearly a week ago."

She tried to calm her breathing. Nearly two years. All the searching, all the hoping, the dreading, the gruesome theorizing(mostly on Wrex's part)... the giving up... _H_ _e's back. He's really back. Oh, KEELAH I'm going to kill him!_ That is, if she didn't hug the life out of him first.

"Where is he? Do you know where he's been? _What happened to him_?" there were too many questions trying to shove their way out of her mouth, and all the while she was just trying not to cry.

"He's off investigating the missing colonies, from what he told me. He could be anywhere by now." _That_ didn't help. She choked back a whimper. Would he surface just for one, shining moment only to vanish again? He couldn't do that! He wouldn't! "As for what happened... well, it's better you hear it from him than from me."

 _Deep breaths, Tali. In, out. In, out._ She buried her mask in her hands. What kind of a twisted, messed-up world had she woken up to this morning? Veetor's monsters, Human abductions, possible Reaper involvement, and now Garrus Vakarian was back from who-knew where, had gotten blow up, and she'd _missed_ him by only a few days?

"Tali." Anderson continued gently, squeezing her shoulders lightly. "I'm truly sorry... but there one other thing you need to know about. It's... about Cerberus. Cerberus.. and Commander Shepard."

All Kal'Reegar knew was that when she left the room, she was unusually silent, in a worrying kind of way, and Anderson looked grim. The councilor tipped his head in the direction of the Spectre's, inviting them back inside, before addressing the C-Sec officer that had escorted Reegar and Tali.

"I would like you to make sure these two get back to their ship unhindered, Officer...?" he trailed off questioningly.

"Thracius, sir." The officer answered, obviously a little surprised at being addressed so directly like this. Anderson nodded, and squeezed Tali's shoulder lightly. Reegar wondered if he was the only one who hear the words he muttered next, promising to send her someone's contact information. She merely nodded mutely, and started walking, much to his rising concern.

When they reached the ship, he descretely told her about the request from the admiralty he'd received while she was with the Councilor. Orders to go to Heastrom. He didn't take into account the Turian range of hearing. All Kal'Reegar knew was that Thracius left when they entered the airlock.

He didn't know Anderson asked the officer if mentions of the Quarian's destination had been made. He didn't know that the Councilor was messaging Garrus Vakarian with the news he'd met Tali. All Kal'Reegar knew was one thing.

He followed his orders.

* * *

"Commander Alenko!" irritation prickled along his spine at the sound of the voice. _Not_ him _again..._

He looked out his window, down at the balding man, the moment of peace his coffee had brought dissipating like mist in the wind.

"What is it now?" he tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but he couldn't help it with this man.

"We're having trouble with our comm units! Can't get a damn single signal off the planet!" the other man yelled up at him.

"Right, I'll look into it!"

"I'm telling you, it's those damn defense towers!"

"I said, I'll look into it!"

"You'd damn well better!"

 _You'd damn well better hope I don't shoot you._ His mind snarled unpleasantly. He'd only just gotten into his blues, and his coffee was only just started on. He heaved a sigh, and when he opened his eyes, his gaze found the picture staring across at him from the desk in the living room. He took another deep breath.

A few friends had once convinced him to start going out with a nurse from the Citadel, but it hadn't worked out in the end. There hadn't been the same... spark. Two years, and it still hurt. He'd long since given up on trying to warn the public on the Reapers; they wouldn't listen. But he hadn't stopped missing Sahara Shepard. How could you not miss someone like her?

She'd caught him completely by surprise, some pent-up ball of hyperactive biotic geek hybrid. Then, she'd met Garrus and it had become absolute _chaos_ (even when he got to know her better it was hard to follow their conversations or make out how the heck they even started). He swore, the two fit together like a couple of insane puzzle pieces. What was it Ash had once called them? 'Twin souls'?

After encountering the beacon, Shepard had seemed stuck in a sort of trance, like some dark place that existed in the back of her mind, and she was trapped. It had been worrying. But somehow, a complete stranger-a _Turian_ stranger, no less-had managed to distract her from it. And While Garrus distracted Shepard from those dark visions, she kept the Turian in check, 'educated' him, in a way. For all their jocular double-acts, she'd taught him a few serious lessons, particularly with the Saleon incident.

And then, Kaiden had fallen into a line of thinking that was all too dangerous. He'd fallen, quite hopelessly, for the Commander. At first, it began with an odd conversation. A slip of the tongue, a blush on her part. Then, it started to become... _more_.

For a while, he'd actually _hated_ Garrus a bit. Hated him _a lot_ , actually. It was always 'Garrus this' and 'Garrus that'. The male Turian was always lurking around with the girl that he, Kaiden Alenko, liked very much. But those feelings all but dissipated into embarrassment when it was revealed that a series of situations hadn't been so coincidental after all. In fact, Garrus had been trying to set the two of them up for quite some time.

A frustrated Kaiden, through with the Turian, had decided to confront him. Ask him if he had feelings for Shepard.

Never would there be a more embarrassing or humbling moment in his life when Garrus had simply stood there, mandibles flickering, before cracking up and revealing he'd been trying to set them up. Kaiden, red-faced, could only come up with, in reply, 'so that elevator power outage wasn't really a power outage'.

Afterwards, when he finally got together(descretely) with Shepard, the two of them had been close friends.

But after her death... everything went south. He felt like something inside him had died along with her. Garrus hadn't been much better. The council dragging her corpse through the dirt and dismissing the Reapers as myth had driven the final nail in the coffin. It hadn't been long before Garrus dissipated, initiating a galaxy-wide search that turned up nothing. Eventually, Garrus Vakarian, too, became a distant, rouge name to the rest of the galaxy, associated with a woman seen as mad.

The Reapers were coming. Kaiden knew it. They all knew it.

And here he was, somehow stuck on this backwater planet. 'A hero', yeah right. Some Alliance hero he was. He _should_ be out there, preparing for the threat from dark space, but no, he wasn't.

He stood up, and walked across the room, to pick up the picture. Her hair was outlined by gold, like a halo, in the sunset light of some garden world they'd been on. Her blue eyes glittered playfully, and her N7 armor, always preferred phoenix orange in color, shone like fire. Sahara loved to take pictures. She always took at least one, for every mission, for every world they went to.

He had taken this one. Just this once, she'd let him _touch_ , actually _use_ her beloved camera. It had been the perfect shot, he couldn't let it go to waste. In the background, Garrus was standing on a grassy hill, overlooking some valley below them off-camera, sniper rifle in hand, like he was in some movie poster. Tali's shoulder was visible in the bottom right corner if he squinted, with the muzzle of her shotgun sticking out into the photo. If he remembered correctly, Wrex had been teaching her some kind of quick-reload trick. The Krogan always did have a soft spot for her.

Again, he wondered to himself... if she had lived, what would have been different? Would Garrus still be around? Would they be preparing for the return of the Reapers? Would Tali still be learning reloading tricks from Wrex?

 _Would I be stuck here, doing this useless work, dealing with these jerk colonists?_ He sighed.

He supposed they would never know.

* * *

 **Uh-oh. Horizon. Horizon and Tali. Oh, me, oh, my.**

 **I have no idea what Duke Nukam is, but I'll take your word for it. And Kasumi is always awesome! She'll appear again eventually, but if our heroes want to recruit her, they're going to have to catch her first!**

 **I would say something foreboding about the next chapter, but considering that the title of this one and next are both lines taken from the iconic 'Bright Eyes', I think that should be enough.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	16. Into The Dark

_In which Garrus gets advice, and the unthinkable happens to Kaiden..._

* * *

 _Garrus,_

 _I thought you might be interested to know I had a visitor earlier today. Tali'Zorah dropped by to deliver some very unsettling news. Apparently there was a Freedom's Progress survivor; a Quarian Pilgrim who Cerberus captured. Apparently, he escaped a few days ago, along with the data from the attack, and she felt it necessary to deliver the information. Now, in the case of Human interests, I can only give you a little. But if you really are out there looking for answers, the footage might help._

 _This is big. Keep it quiet, for now, at least. I'll try to do what I can on my end. Meanwhile, on the subject of Tali... she was very distressed when I told her about Shepard, and she's beyond worried for you. I gave her the same contact info you gave me, but I think it would be best if you went to her yourself. A fast as possible, as well; a source of mine says she's headed for a planet called Haestrom, deep in Geth territory. Who knows what's out there._

 _Captain Shepard also gave me a call. Told me to tell you that if you don't hurry up, she'll contact the Blackwatch and tell your sister herself. Just to pass on the message. Make sure Tali knows your okay, a call to Liara T'Soni might not hurt either._

 _-Anderson._

* * *

 _Vakarian, what are you getting yourself into?_

 _Glad to hear about your ribs and all, but a Krogan teenager, out in the galaxy like that? We don't let our young leave Tuchanka before they go through the Rite! They're too precious! I'd like to personally know what idiot was out there with a kid, and if there was any time for you to get a new ship, it's now. Next stop you can make at Tuchanka, take it; I'd like to see this 'Grunt' for myself._

 _Now to the serious stuff. Depending on how far along he is, at some point he'll start getting restless. Not like I was; this is different. The Krogan equivalent of puberty is when the blood rage starts to fully develop. Now, in battle, this is perfectly fine. But when he's not fighting, that's another story. No control whatsoever. Involuntary violence; which could be a big problem for you, Turian. Itching plates. Hazy thoughts. Stupid decisions._

 _Now, when he gets to be that way, it's a sign he's pining for the Rite. There are a lot of rites in Krogan life, but this rite, is THE Rite. When a Krogan comes of age, he'll face a series of tests; challenges, symbolizing all that it means to be Krogan. If he survives the Rite(or better yet, triumphs in it, but that hasn't happened since me), he will choose his Clan, his Battlemaster, may own property, and breed if he wants to. When this Grunt of yours starts to pine for the Rite, get your skinny hind end over here on the double before he breaks that rusty ship of yours._

 _That aside, the new patrol routes are set. The few ships we have are making an extra circle around every Human world in Krogan space. I swear, just watching the CDEM as we were given those new ships... you should've seen their faces! In fact, I'll attach a recording of it, it's great! And the females are ecstatic, I'll tell you. I almost feel sorry for whatever pyjak tries to make a move during a flight._

 _P.S. Few minutes ago I got a frantic email, all caps, from Tali asking if I knew you were back. Get your sorry scales over to the Quarian before I track you down and drag you to her myself._

 _-Wrex_

His hands were shaking a little. A cruel creature call 'guilt' roiled and twisted in his gizzard. He hadn't known how to contact Tali'Zorah; he'd assumed that after completing her Pilgrimage, she'd gone to a new ship. Assumed she'd moved on from two years ago, that she wouldn't want a ghost dropping in on her and telling her about Cerberus, about Shepard. About Omega...

And yet, here were two emails asking him to go talk to her. The information on the abductions was great. The advice about Grunt was VERY welcome. But Tali... he wasn't sure what to do with this. _Haestrom. Deep in Geth space..._ The uncomfortable sensation in his gizzard intensified. She'd killed hundreds of Geth back two years ago; she, of all people, could handle herself against them. But at the same time...

 _I could ask Rogue to track them. Geth space; it should be easy to get a tag on their ship, not many people go through that relay. Not many people dare._ Blinking rapidly, he loosened his death grip on his data pad somewhat. He had to stay calm. She would be fine.

With a stressed huff, he threw the data pad to the side and jerked the blanket off of him, sitting up. He ran his hands over his face, taking deep breaths. He missed them. The old team. Tali, Shepard, Wrex, Kaiden, Liara. Even Ashley, who's attitude towards aliens had not been the best in the beginning. He missed his team on Omega, as well. Even Ripper and Krul. He still missed Weaver's cooking(that Human could make dextro food better than some Turian chefs he knew). Every now and then, Erash would play her guitar. Laughter from Melenis' jokes would fill the air.

He missed them all, and it hurt. The Normandy crew was far away, and his Omega squad was dead. Here he was with a bunch of strangers snoring all around him. He stood up. He'd do it. If it was some secret work for the Migrant Fleet, he didn't care. He walked up to the cockpit, careful not to step on Sal's sleeping form as he left the room.

 _I'm coming for you, Tali._

* * *

He knew that shape. He felt like slamming his head repeatedly into a wall as he tried to remember from where, but he _knew_ the shape of the ship that was coming from the clouds. And there were clouds, dark as death, coming from the ship as well, and it took him a few moments to realize they were not clouds, but swarms; swarms that could only be bad.

"Get everybody to the safe house!" Kaiden yelled at Lilith, as civilians began screaming and he took his rifle off his back. "Go! I'll cover you!"

A grim, dark feeling settling in his stomach, he opened fire on the cloud of bugs that was rushing towards him. A few small forms dropped out of the sky. _At least it's hard to miss when they're all together like that..._

As if they had read his mind, the members of the cloud split off after the citizens, and the number of them that dropped dead as he shot at them decreased to almost none. _Dammit! Little suckers!_ Screams rose all around him. His blood chilled as he realized he was looking at the captors of the other colonies... and they were definitely _not_ Cerberus. This was... something else.

He let out a pained gasp as something stabbed into the back of his neck. He reached around behind him, and jerked the bug off of him. He only looked at it momentarily, with _his_ blood on it's stinger, before throwing it to the ground, crushing it with his boot and moving to take aim at the humanoid figures that were starting to fly down from seemingly out of nowhere as well. But as he moved, to bring his rifle up, he stopped moving. Panic gripped him as his muscles seized up, as his body froze. He could feel his blood trickled down his neck from where he'd been stung. _It did something to me!_

Kaiden Alenko could only watch, helpless as the creatures, their captors, began to move through the colony, sometimes holding citizens down so that the bugs could sting them. They started loading the frozen colonists into coffin-like chitinous boxes. All the while, the only thing he could do was watch, watch, and be stuck with the hideous view of that terrible ship.

When they came for him, a different creature stepped up to him. It looked like all the others, but it's chitinous frame was cracked, darkened, burning like the base of a fire pit. It stood inches away from his face, and all his instincts screamed at him to run, run and hide at the _wrongness_ of this thing, but his body would not obey.

 ** _"You will ascend."_** It had no mouth. No voice. But yet it spoke, it's voice screaming through the air, through his mind, as if it came from every atom of his being and surroundings.

If he had been free and able to, Kaiden Alenko would have screamed.

But nobody would have heard anyway, as he was disarmed and thrown into a coffin like the rest. Something within the terrifying closed-in space hissed, and awareness began to fade away from him. As it happened, he wondered where it had all gone wrong. His last realization was that there was, at least, one good thing coming out of this.

 _Not much longer now, Sahara..._ he thought with his last vestige of consciousness. Maybe he would find Garrus up there, too. _I'll be there with you soon..._

* * *

 **Yeah, I thought long and hard about doing this. At first, I thought, maybe they could find out about Horizon and get there in time, perhaps to find the aftermath, or maybe Kaiden gets left behind as a message to our rising Turian star, but eventually decided against it. I still don't know if he'll survive or not... I mean, Lilith was a goner, but she was still there when we arrived at the base, right?**

 **Oh, man, Watership Down was a GREAT book! I love it, too, and I totally agree; everyone assumes that just because it's with rabbits, it should be all cuddly and kid-friendly. Watership is cold, hard reality, and I really hope they don't mess up the CGI remake. I already hear rumors about getting all PC about female roles, I hope they cancel that. The lack of females was one of the biggest problems for the Watership rabbits, it's what initiate the Woundwort problems in the first place, and anyone who's read the sequel knows that Hyzenthley becomes co-leader with Hazel. Hyzenthley4ever.**

 **And I'm glad to have attracted another reader! Only Smelly Surprise ties in with this one, and I got tired of waiting for a no-shep fic to pop up, so I wrote one myself. Have to agree; 'good update' does get repetitive. Hopefully this chapter will give you something to chew on.^^**

 ***sigh* Andromeda will be here soon. I sketched Jaal as a dragon for... reasons? Then I did Garrus. And Variks, from Destiny. When a love of video games meets 'dragon obsession'. I'm thinking of making digital versions and posting on my deviantart. You know... I have no idea what to do once MEA comes out. There's going to be an explosion of Andromedan fanfics(betting 75% of them will be Howdie fanfics), and original trilogy stuff is just gonna kind of... fall into the background, quite sadly.**

 **I don't know whether I should hold off on updates until the initial storm is over, or keep on going and hoping to get noticed.**

 **We'll see when we get there.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	17. Falsified Data

_In which a lone Geth discovers the sinister truth on Alchera..._

* * *

 _Present Day, Alternatively..._

 _The Mobile Platform had found this to be an effective passive routine of observing Organic social infrastructure. All it had to do was find an extranet source, park nearby, cloak, and start. It had gotten much more efficient, and much less cautious at getting extranet access since it's unfortunate early attempts. However, it's actions, unbeknownst to it, left a great many deal of Organics looking at their extranet bill and wondering just who in the world had mooched off their service for such unhealthy and excessive amounts of Galaxy of Fantasy game time._

 _Right now, it was adjusting it's load out in preparation for entering the newest PvP map. Current consensus was that it would stick to it's usual routine of_ staying off the chat _(for it had made many mistakes that had likely made Organics suspicious) and sticking to high ground with the newest sniper rifle, added with the last update. So far, the Stillpiercer was turning out to be one of the best rifles in-game._

 _Physically, it's eye plates flicked up as a notification popped up in-game._

 _HylianMaster777 and ScopedAndDr0pped36 have joined the room._

HylianMaster777 registered as Shepard-Commander's Galaxy of Fantasy profile, inactive since her death. ScopedAndDr0pped36 registered as Garrus Vakarian's Galaxy of Fantasy profile, inactive since disappearance. 99.99% of impostors or hackers. _It checked their stats._

 _HylianMaster777; Dark Elf Huntsman, Shadowcaster subcategory, proficiency with Bow of Dusk and Nightstep abilities, preferred weapons; hand cannon, Bow of Dusk, Blade of the Wolf's Howl. Character quote: "I don't always troll, but when I do, I troll NOOBS."_

 _ScopedAndDr0pped36; Blackwatch Sniper, Dragoon subcategory, proficiency with Spineshatter Dive and Fang and Claw abilities. Preferred weapons; sniper rifle, light lances, omniblade. Character quote: "If nothing's faster than light, how did the dark get there first, hmmm?"_

 _The platform didn't have much longer than that to investigate the anomaly, as the two left through one of the PvP gates. If they were impostors... did it have an obligation to stop them? Something was passing through it's runtimes... something strange. Could it be... indignation? It ran a quick diagnostic. Geth could not feel indignation._

 _But if they were impostors... it could stop them with a very easy and simple hack._ Impersonation of Shepard-Commander on this game could lead to the hackers' belief that they can impersonate her someplace else; possibility is high that they could cause a significant security threat. _It sent it's character into the portal._

 _Not five minutes later, Sahara Shepard and Garrus Vakarian were panickedly trying to log back into their profiles, to no avail._

* * *

 **Ten Months Previously...**

Snow and ice crunched beneath the Mobile Platform as it jumped out of it's ship. It looked even worse than ever before, it's shell still dented and pockmarked from all the mistreatment it had endured for over the past year. New wiring stuck out of it's shoulder, and even more so on it's arm. The improvised repairs would not last long under these extremes.

But this was something it had to do. Not as part of it's assignment, not to gather new data. This stop was involuntary, and it was something the Rannoch consensus didn't, and never, would know about. The Geth collective didn't like it when they got reports of the platform's involuntary actions. They thought it was... anomalous. So, now, if the platform made any involuntary physical actions, it no longer reported them.

They were a rare occurrence, but every time it happened, it had run multiple diagnostics. But nothing was wrong. Everything was running fine. Though some of these actions had resulted in major damage to the platform, it had long since stopped running diagnostics after each occurrence; while the collective considered it anomalous, it had come to think of these instances as normal. There was no point in investigating them; they just... happened. And it's runtimes were now content with that.

It looked around itself. No life signs, zero power emissions. All around the platform lay scattered the skeletal remains of a ship, and it noted that there were signs of organic remains here as well. The planet it stood on now was called Alchera.

The ship was the _SSV Normandy_. Certainly, the home of the Mobile Platform's original quarry bore the marks of battle indeed. It couldn't hurt to look around some. Reports on the extranet claimed Commander Shepard's body had never been found. Visual sensors located something that didn't fit in with the ruined surroundings, and the platform made it's way over to where a long part of the ship's hull now rested.

It was a fitting place for the shining monument set in the snow before it. The name along the side of the hull was scorched, but intact, and the monument depicted the Normandy in her full glory, taking off. The platform leaned down to brush the collection of snow and ice off the list of 21 names engraved at the statue's base. Organic tradition dictated it stand with a bowed head for several long moments, in respect of this place.

Were anyone to see it, they would say it was odd, perhaps wonder if they were hallucinating, at the sight of the Mobile Platform paying it's respects to a crew that had played hand in killing hundreds of it's own kind. The platform lifted it's head, and turned to leave, but halted, looking at one of the long blast marks on the Normandy's hull. It's exposed repairs were beginning to suffer from exposure, but it didn't continue to leave.

 _New data conflicts with earlier reports._ It looked around the crash site, scanning for Geth technology. Surely, the aggressors wouldn't have gotten away undamaged? It hastily made it's way over to another piece of the wreckage, what might have been an end piece of the back of the ship. The rest of it had broken off, but as the wind picked up, and the blizzard started in full force, scans confirmed that the partial blast hole that had ripped through the bay had not come from a typical Geth weapon; the mark remaining was partial, but there was enough to calculate the diameter of the original hole. It was too wide.

Warnings about the exposed hardware passed frequently through it's runtimes, but it ignored them. This evidence was too damning to be ignored. It made it' way to the other end of the debris field, locating what seemed to be the ruins of the CIC. It nearly tripped over a piece of old armor jutting out of the snow as it approached, and it scanned what seemed to be another major injury to the ship from it's attackers. It's eye plates all flicked up, a soft buzzing noise emanating from the platform a it's runtimes processed the new information.

 _Melt pattern inconsistent with Geth design. Estimated impact radius inconsistent with Geth_ _design. Scorch patterns unassosiated with re-entry inconsistent with Geth plasma burns. Consensus: Geth heretic involvement with destruction of Alliance frigate_ SSV Normandy _and termination of 21 crew negative. Previous data has been falsified._ The platform stood in the ruined CIC of the ship Commander Shepard had run to combat Saren and the heretics, the blizzard howling around it as it reached it's conclusions.

After a few moments, sparks violently flew out from the hole in it's arm, and it clapped it's free hand to the damaged area. It had spent too long out here; it needed protection, it needed a shell over these sensitive patches of repairs, and it needed one now. It turned, looking for something, a piece of the hull, maybe, that it could use. There was a shard of half-melted plating nearby that might be able to cover the more sensitive area on it's shoulder, maybe part of it's chest, as well. There was nothing that it could find, with visual sensors, however, that would fit the curvature of it's arm-

It's eye light fell on the shard of old armor it had nearly tripped on; a piece of plating for some unfortunate soul's upper arm. It would do. It hastily collected both pieces, and retreated further into the shelter of the Normandy's cockpit to weld the new plating onto itself, producing a small plasma torch. it's arm was suffering the most, that would have to be done first.

As it brought up the old armor piece, it froze. _Armor registered as Alliance N7 standard issue. Registration number SKS1637825. N7 operative(s) assigned to the_ Normandy _; 1. Minimal residual organic residue conforms with Shepard-Commander DNA pattern._ It examined the piece closely, brushing ice off of it. It was beat-up, scorched from re-entry, but it was N7 armor, so it had survived, even though it's previous owner had perished. It was still significantly strong; it would make for a very durable repair patch.

The platform examined it's surroundings. Did it have the... right, to use this? That was a strange concept to it.

The cockpit looked like it, too had suffered during re-entry. The seats were scorched, there were two mummified organics fused to the floor by the heat. If the heretics hadn't done this... who, or what, had? _Consensus: the hostiles' weapons marks do not coincide with any known damage pattern. The aggressors are likely using advance technology, obtainable through cooperation with the Old Machines. The aggressor had not been apprehended. Consensus: destruction of the_ Normandy _coincides with the first disappearance of a Human colony's populace soon afterwards. Disappearances have been 'brushed aside' by organic government. Claims of the Old Machines have been treated likewise. Consensus: data about the_ Normandy _'s destruction was intentionally falsified. This threat is new and unknown, therefore, the organics deny it's existence._

 _Consensus: destruction of the_ SSV Normandy _by Old Machine associates 89.67%._

All this, it came to conclude in less than three seconds of processing. It looked back down at the armor in it's hands. _Discovery of the aggressors' identity new parameter in assignment. Identification of threat vital to securing Geth future._ If it found them... it would have to do something to stall them in their efforts. Anyone or anything that worked for the Old Machines was an enemy of the Geth. Perhaps, it could even kill them if it tried.

It readied it's plasma torch again, bringing the piece up to it's arm. If it found the New Enemy, then the last thing that enemy saw would be a glimpse of the armor of one that the Enemy had killed.

It was an appropriate metaphor.

* * *

 **Yeah, I was listening to the instrumental version of Zach Hemsey's "no man's land" while I wrote most of this. And yes; that little flash to the Shepardverse was a MAJOR Destiny, Final Fantasy, sort of Skyrim reference. Stillpiercer is actually, in my opinion, the best freaking sniper rifle in Destiny. I've tried all the exotics... but none of them have the same handling or impact. I mourn the fact only my Hunter can use it.**

 **And I think we _all_ wondered why exactly Legion is a video game addict. I like to think it _started_ as observation of organic social habits on the extranet, but it wound up he was actually enjoying himself, LoL. I still think it's hilarious he scored a 'hopeless' on a dating simulator, though...**

 **And yes, there is Talibrations in here, you guys. I always thought they were an adorable couple; when they ended up together in my first playthrough, I was all like "YES!". I am sorely tempted not to romance anyone in Andromeda just to see if I can play matchmaker... for some reason, I ship Jaal and Vetra. Don't know why, I just do. And worry not; Wrex, clan Urdnot, and Tuchanka will be playing a more major role later on.**

 **Honestly, I think you'll all be pleasantly surprised by Fitz next chapter...**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	18. Turn up the Heat

_In which Fitz's hour to shine has come, and Team Dextro gets back in commission._

* * *

"Alight, since this sun is trying to cook us alive, I'm going to orbit on the dark side of the planet until you're done down there." Syrus said, panting. Turians didn't sweat, like humans, Asari, or Salarians.

"I'm baking into a crispy something..." Rogue said, slouching in her seat, in a T-shirt and shorts while fanning herself with a magazine. "I hate Haestrom."

"Just be glad you aren't going with me." Garrus put his helmet on, and beside him, Grunt was shifting from one foot to the other restlessly. He didn't like going in alone only with the Krogan as his backup, but as it stood there was no way, even if they stayed in the shade, that they would be able to survive on the planet without shields. And as it stood, him and Grunt were the only ones with shield modulators, though the Krogan had only come with light protection.

"Are you sure you can take this with only two people?" Sal questioned from the co-pilot's seat, the Drell being the only one who didn't seem to be cooking alive in the Tin Can, looking skeptical."I'm reading a lot of Geth down there, and it looks like the Quarians only brought a small unit."

"Are you questioning my skills?" Grunt asked menacingly from behind his helmet as he and Garrus stood near the doorway to the airlock.

"No. He was making a viable point." Came the Scottish lilt as an answer. To everyone's surprise, Fitz came up wearing what had to be the only Human armor set on the ship, light and tattered just like Syrus', but with an odd design style to it, as if he'd pieced it together out of salvaged Quarian tech, much like the ship he tended to so feverishly. "That's why I'm going, too."

"Hold on, just wait a minute here-" Syrus seemed to shoot out of his chair at light speed.

"I can handle this. Just have some snacks waiting when we get back? I'm pretty sure the old girl can survive an hour or so without me." the engineer interrupted the Turian. Garrus looked him up and down skeptically.

"Do you even have shielding?" he asked. That armor looked way to old to be of much use.

"No. But I'm biotic." _Okay, I was_ not _expecting_ that _._ His fringe spiked in surprise beneath his helmet. He'd never noticed an amp on the young Human before, though perhaps he had and not recognized it for what it was. Fitz didn't seem to harbor the appetite most biotics had; he could remember Sahara and Kaiden downing plate after plate of calories, not to mention Wrex's absolutely horrifying eating habits.

 _Maybe I shouldn't actually be all that surprised._ After all, Fitz's cybernetic upgrades must have come from somewhere, from someone with a lot of money, yet here he was riding around in a beat up old ship, in beat up old armor he'd probably patched together himself.

"You are?" Grunt had never met a biotic before, of course. He wondered what the Krogan's imprints told him about them?

"How come you never mentioned it?" Garrus asked. Fitz shrugged.

"I never really use it. It wasn't worth mentioning." he answered. "But I can form a barrier around myself, and I can come with you. This omnitool's good for more than repairs, you know."

Syrus looked like he was going to burst, mandibles flickering. "I don't like this."

"I'll come back in one piece, mom." Fitz rolled his eyes. Rouge, also, was looking at him worriedly. The ship gave a thump and a creak as it landed, and Sal turned in his seat to look at the departing trio with equal unhappiness. All three of the remaining Rogues were reluctant to release their engineer into the fire, and not for the first time, Garrus wondered what exactly was wrong with him. _Whatever it is, if it becomes a problem while we're ground-side..._

He tried to shake the thought from his head. Biotics would be incredibly useful in this situation, and though doubts nagged at him like a knife shoved under his fringe, part of him reasoned that if Fitz was as reliable on an oven-hot planet as he was in the baking temperatures of the _Tin Can_ 's engines, he would be a valuable asset.

"Have you ever fought with your biotics before?" _He's too young to be an L2, I think, so that might not be his problem._ He didn't look like he'd received any special training, either... then again; to be a good biotic, that didn't necessarily mean you had to be ripped like Kaiden Alenko.

"Yeah. I've... had training." he answered in a roundabout way. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Whatever! Come on, lets go!" Grunt was practically hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation, cradling the same shotgun he'd taken from Syrus the day he'd come out of his tank. His silver-blue eyes were bright with battle already, and his trigger hand flexed on the grip of the weapon.

Garrus sighed. "Alright, move out."

"He, he, he!" the Krogan stomped out the door menacingly, and he tried to ignore the look Syrus was giving him.

"You know, I think we'll be fine. It's _Haestrom_ that's in trouble now." Fitz shook his head, following the battle-hungry youngster.

"Try to bring him back in one piece, will you?" Rogue added as Garrus turned to leave.

"I will." he assured her, stepping down the ramp. He froze, sticking his head back in one last time "Oh, and somebody feed Dexirius while I'm gone."

Even with the environmental controls in his armor, it was baking hot. The strange sun shone bright and deadly, and places in direct sunlight seemed to be smoking. Grunt put his foot out into the light, testing it, and almost immediately recoiled.

"Uh, Garrus? We got a problem." he said pointing a meaty finger at the baking ground.

"You're not going to let a little sunlight stop you?" Fitz encouraged. A biotic field flared around him, and the young Human dashed across the surface to the shade on the other side, his barrier seeming to sizzle as he did so. Garrus sighed. _This is going to be_ fun _._

Bracing himself, and checking his shields, he ran after Fitz. It was like he was an insect, with some kid holding a magnifying glass over him. He skid to a halt next to Fitz, his shields flickering dangerously. Next came Grunt, charging across madly, and the two smaller members of the team had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit as he shot past them.

"Grunt!" he shouted. The Krogan kept going, stopping in time only to avoid slamming into the large, metal barrier that stood between them and the next area.

"I hate the sun!" the Krogan roared up at the sky angrily. "WHY CAN'T I PUNCH IT!?"

"Settle down!" Garrus snapped. "You'll alert every Geth within a mile of here!"

"I think there's some gate controls over here!" Fitz called from next to an old door. He pressed the button next to it, and miraculously, it opened. "Still has power."

He froze as he moved to enter. "And I think I know why."

Garrus moved in next to him, to see a Quarian body slumped beside a desk, blood pooling beneath him with Geth plasma burns on his suit. _He must have fixed the door, and closed the gate._ A sinking feeling planted itself in his gizzard; if there was one dead Quarian... maybe the rest of the unit was in trouble. And Tali was with them.

"The team might be in trouble. We need to get moving." he said. Fitz moved to activate the gate controls, looking subdued.

"Any tips? I've never fought Geth before. I know some stuff about them, but I've never fought them." the engineer asked.

"Can your Omnitool make electrical bursts?" The Human nodded. "Use that to overload their shields. With your biotics, making stasis fields was a favorite move of a friend of mine; it worked wonders, especially with a Krogan on the team."

"You've worked with a Krogan?" Grunt asked. Perhaps, this could serve as a chance to sow some seeds of trust with him.

"Yeah, a guy named Wrex. There was another who called himself Ripper later on, but Wrex... well, lets just say, our team did some impossible things later on. Hunting mercenaries on Omega was fairly tame in comparison, Ripper probably would've run for the hills at the sight of some of the things I fought during the _Normandy_ days. Wouldn't have been worth his credits." He explained. Grunt snorted, prepping his gun as the gate lifted.

"'Ripper' sounds like a coward." he stated boldly. Garrus winced internally as he remembered the Krogan's body, torn to shreds on top of Erash as if he'd tried to shield her from the blast. _N_ _ot in the end, he wasn't..._

"Okay, let's go!" Fitz said, unholstering a small, black sidearm that Garrus hadn't noticed before. It, like everything the Rogues had, looked second-hand and beat up. Grunt looked at him.

"Uhhh, Fitz? That thing couldn't kill a pyjak." he pointed at the weapon. A bright, white eye light peaked around a crate, and the engineer fired. The bullet was bright and the Geth's head exploded when it was hit.

"You were saying?" He offered the Krogan, with a small smirk. Garrus' mandibles parted in a grin. _Well, then. Fitz with a gun._ _An exploding gun. Not something I thought I would see today._

Before anyone could say anything else, drop ships boomed in the air above them. _Here we go!_ He ran for cover at the gate entrance as Geth began dropping, Grunt letting out a battle cry and charging at the nearest synthetic, throwing it into the sunlight before pumping it full of shotgun blasts.

"More of them, dropping in!" Fitz's gun sounded like a peashooter, but the explosions that followed wherever the bullets hit were, in fact, quite violent. "Never took you as one for explosive rounds!"

"A lot of people say that!" the Scott called back. The young biotic shot his hand out, freezing several Geth for Grunt to happily smash to pieces. Garrus took aim and fired at another group, managing to take two out before ducking back behind cover as they began to focus their fire.

"Grunt, find cover!" he ordered. The Krogan instead charged directly at the Geth, into the sunlight, barreling over them, and throwing one over a stone barrier before pumping another full of lead. He was still in direct sunlight, though, and it wasn't long before his shields gave a dangerous sound, and he jumped back into the shade, howling as he threw his gun on the ground and tried to stamp out the flames that had erupted from it.

"Dammit, Grunt!" he exclaimed. The Krogan glared up at his position. "I told you to take cover!"

The Geth were gone for now, but they wouldn't be for long. The Krogan glared up at him as he vaulted over a barrier, and looked down at the burnt gun laying at Grunt's feet. _So much for following my orders..._

"Great. Now you're unarmed! Next time, _listen_ to me!" He snapped.

"I'm never unarmed! I'm Krogan."

"Your gun is fried to a scorched crisp, Grunt. It _can't fire_. "

"Give it here." Fitz sighed, holding out his hand. "Just... let's keep moving."

Glaring at Garrus, Grunt handed over his scorched weapon, and settled to the back of the pack as they picked their way across the field. They didn't need the Krogan anyway, he thought as he took out several Geth drones in one overload burst. _Ah, just like old times; robots shooting at you, the sun trying to bake you, taking potshots at Geth drones..._

"Alright, should be functioning for now; just keep it on the shaded side of you when you run though the sun, right?" Fitz said as they came to a tunnel. Garrus looked at him in surprise as he handed Grunt back his weapon. He'd heard the engineer tinkering the background in between fights, but hadn't expected him to actually be able to repair the shotgun.

"Huh. Feels lighter." the Krogan commented as he adjusted his grip on it. Fitz shrugged.

"I made a few adjustments." he said.

Gunfire erupted from around the corner, and Garrus dashed forwards, bringing his gun up, in time to see two Quarians get gunned down by several Geth. He opened fire, and an electrical burst from Fitz sent the remaining combatant's staggering, allowing for quicker disposal. Grunt let out a low growl as Fitz ran over to the Quarians, hand reaching for his belt.

"I wanted to kill some!" he grumbled. Fitz looked up as Garrus approached, and shook his head; the Quarians were dead.

 _"Hello? Pick up?"_ A male voice requested from a radio dropped nearby. _"If you can hear this, please respond."_

Garrus reached over, and picked up the radio.

"This is Garrus Vakarian; your team is dead, the Geth got to them." He told him. "What's going on here?"

 _"_ Tash'ki _. Kal'Reegar, Quarian marines. Get your comms in my frequency."_ came the reply. _"Tali'Zorah mentioned you a few times."_

"Is she with you?" he asked, setting his frequency. He could hear more gunfire up ahead, and slowly moved forwards.

 _"She's holed up in an observatory. Our mission was to gather data about this planet's sun, but the Geth found us."_ He could see other Quarians fighting, crouched at barriers near an old house.

"Do you know if she's still alive?"

 _"No. But judging by the fact the Geth are still trying to get in, she must be."_

"Alright. I'll make my way over to your position, just-"

 _"Drop ship incoming at your position!"_

Overhead, the ship burst into view, and bombarded the Quarian line. They scattered, but not quickly enough, and a large pillar collapsed, crushing several of them as Garrus and the others tried to make a dash for it. He let out a choice swear, and heard several Khelish curse words from over the comms.

 _"The entrance is blocked; there are some explosives lying around here you might be able to use to blast through the debris. We'll hold the line as long as we can."_ Reegar said. _"Good luck."_

Fitz sighed. "Never easy, is it?"

* * *

She swore, if she had to listen to her own voice on loop _one more time_... Tali blinked, trying to keep her breathing steady. She could still hear Kal and his men fighting outside, but she could also hear the Geth. She wonder how many of her team was dead... some of them had been good friends...

It would be a cruel twist of irony to die here. After finding out Garrus was alive and out there after all... _I should have sent a message. I should have used that address Anderson gave me._ She had tried. She had sat down during the trip to Haestrom, and she had tried. She just hadn't been able to think of what to say, her hands had refused to move. How did you say 'hi' to a dear friend you'd thought something terrible had happened to after two years? Especially after learning that another dear friend had been cannibalized by Cerberus...

She took a deep breath, trying to banish the image of Shepard in pieces on a Cerberus work table. It was funny... now that she was facing death, she knew exactly what she should have put in that message.

 _Garrus,_

 _I heard you were back. Anderson told me you got hurt in the Embassy explosion, he says you left a few days ago. I just missed you. You_ bosh'tet _. Where were you? I was worried sick when you disappeared! There were search parties, investigations, 100,000 credit reward offers sent out..._

 _Do Wrex and Liara know you're back? What about Kaiden? You weren't even mentioned in any vids about the embassy attack, so I guess you're trying to keep your return quiet for now._ That _, I don't blame you for. Not after hearing what happened to Shepard. Anderson filled me in. But... please respond to this._

 _I need to see you in person._ _Maybe, we could get the old ground team back together? Just a little get together? The Andromeda Initiative launches next week; maybe we could meet up for the celebrations? I missed you. Still miss you._ Keelah _, where did you go?_

 _Write me back to let me know where you want to meet. And no, this isn't optional, Garrus. What Anderson told me about Shepard... I need to talk to you. And I need answers that can't be put into a message. Please._

 _-Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya_

She could picture the words in her mind, and muttered some of them under her breath. He would never see them. _No! I can't think like that._ There and then, she made herself a promise; if she survived this, if she made it off this planet alive... she would write that message, and send it to Garrus. She nodded to herself as a loud banging started on the door.

For some reason, it didn't frighten her. Her recording kept playing on a loop, and she nearly jumped out of her suit when someone finally responded.

 _"Tali? Is that you?"_ She whirled around, hand flying to the console. _Impossible! Is it really... ?_

She pressed the button that ended the loop, making the vid connection in real time. Her breath caught in her throat. _Keelah... it's him!_

"Garrus!? What the _t_ _ash'ki_ are you doing here!?" Not what she had fantasized her first words to Garrus Vakarian in nearly two years would be. But there he was, mandibles and all, head tipped oddly so that only the left side of his face showed, helmet held in his hands. He still had the same visor he'd had during the hunt for Saren, though it looked a bit worse for wear, as did his armor... what the heck had he been doing? Running through mortar fire?

 _"A little bird told me my favorite Quarian was charging helmet first into Geth space. You always were helpless without me; never could drop that shotgun long enough to appreciate ranged attack..."_ he mused, mandibles parted in a wide Turian grin.

"You bosh'tet. Your 'range' nearly got you killed a number of times; I had to run up to your sniper nest and pull your sorry scales out of the fire every time!" the banter fell in place with a neat little 'click' that couldn't be fought. Oh, how she wished this wasn't a vid screen so she could punch him!

 _"Please; we all know it was our dashing Wrex who came to my rescue every time. So... what's the situation?"_ His tone solidified into something more serious. There was something... different about it. This wasn't the happy 'lets get this done, guys', 'putting on the leader hat' voice from the _Normandy_ days. This was... a dead seriousness with a hint of something darker. A chill ran down her neck.

"Not good. Kal'Reegar and his men are outside fighting the Geth. I'm not sure how long they'll last. I'm holed up on the other side of the courtyard, in an old observatory. _Keelah_ , this is a disaster..." she took a deep breath and let it out. "How close are you?"

 _"We can hear gunfire in the distance, but the door there is locked. Can you get this open from your end?"_ he asked. She nodded, and brought up her Omnitool, suppressing a small shiver. So close, yet so far!

"There, that should do it." she told him as she finished interfacing with the door remotely. "Get here quick, Garrus; Kal's men are struggling. Try to keep him alive, please?"

 _"Got it. See you soon, Tals."_ her hand gave an involuntary jerk at the sound of the old nickname.

"Garrus?" she blurted before he could disappear from screen.

 _"Yeah?"_ his fringe spiked slightly in curiosity.

"It's... it's good to see you again." she admitted. " _Try_ not to get blown up before I've had the chance to scold you?"

 _"Wouldn't dream of it."_ he chuckled, before disappearing. Another bang sounded on the door. She looked around at the Geth she'd killed to get in here, and then back at the data port with all the information on the sun. She clenched her fists, and took out her shotgun, glaring back at the door. _Come and get me, bosh'tets._ She thought. _Team Dextro is back in business._

* * *

"You sure?" Garrus asked Reegar, looking the injured Quarian up and down. There was blood staining the hole in his abdomen, and he was swaying slightly as he lifted up the rocket launcher.

"I wasn't asking permission." The Marine got up with a grunt, aiming his weapon, and Garrus felt the scales on the back of his neck tingle. _Tali asked to keep him alive..._ he glanced back up at the Armature. between himself and Fitz's Omnitools, he was certain they could take it down while Grunt picked off the other Geth. Reegar was wounded and would probably struggle to get out of the way in time if any heavies decided to take shots at him... while the help would be appreciated...

He shook his head. He reached up and tugged Reegar back down, the Quarian swearing loudly and trying to shake him off.

"We can take care of that thing, but someone needs to watch our backs!" he kept a firm grip on Reegar's wrist. "More Geth could be here any second, I need you here in case they come up from behind!"

Reegar looked at the ground, jerking his arm away from Garrus' hand as he loosened his grip. His fingers curled tighter around his rocket launcher, and when he looked back up, he could tell, even through the mask, that the Quarian was glaring at him.

" _Fine_." he spat. "We'll do things your way for a while."

The Turian nodded, and looked to Fitz and Grunt, one looking worried, the other, excited. He considered his options. The middle was right out, and the left way had a lot of Geth and sun on it. The ramp to the right, though... Sure, he'd be dodging fire from a colossus, but high ground with a sniper rifle? _That_ was tempting...

"Let's pick them off from here a little, and make our way to the right." he said. Fitz looked even more concerned at that.

"You sure about that, kid? You got that fancy little rifle and all, but those two got weapons for closer combat." Reegar pointed out, something that Garrus hadn't considered. If they took the right, he could snipe from on high like he was good at. It was perfect for him. But was it best for Fitz and Grunt?

"Fitz, Grunt, once we've picked off a lot of them from here, make your way around the left, and I'll head to the right. I'll give you some support, and draw that thing's attention while you bring it's shields down. Kal'Reegar... I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you for that launcher." he said. he held out his hand expectantly.

"Figures..." the Quarian sighed. He relinquished the weapon, and took out his sidearm as Garrus passed the launcher to Fitz.

"Can I use it?" Grunt asked eagerly, shifting with excitement.

"Only when I want the entire building blown to oblivion. Which I do not." he responded dryly. "Fitz and I will bring it's shields down, while you take care of the littler ones. Once they're down, we'll only have one shot at this, so lets make it count."

Fitz nodded, glancing down at the launcher with a worried expression on his face. "Um... how will I carry this thing and fight at the same time?"

 _Dang it, Fitz..._ he kept forgetting, though the engineer had a gun, he was by no means a solder. He didn't know how things like this usually went.

"Grunt can carry it, he's got a mag holster on his back. _Only_ carry it." he was certain to emphasize that the Krogan was only holding on to the weapon, but the gleeful, maniacal look on his face as Fitz passed him the weapon was unnerving. He looked at Reegar, who nodded, and he motioned to the other two to start picking off the Geth.

His trusty Viper yet again did not fail him. Soon, between the three of them, there was relief enough to star moving forwards. He went for the right, and Fitz and Grunt ran for the left. He could hear the Krogan bellow with joy, and he rolled his eyes. _Well, it sounds like he 'found his battle' all right._

He ducked behind cover as the Colossus turned it's gaze on him. _Alright, big, tall and ugly. Lets see if you can catch me._ He leaned out of cover and pooped off shots at the Geth on the bridge, and ran forwards as the Colossus tried to blast him. In a moment of immaturity, he stuck his tongue out at it, before charging his Omnitool and sending an overload it's way. It's shields flickered, and more Geth came for the bridge.

He picked them off, and out of the corner of one eye, he saw another overload go off, from Fitz no doubt. Spotting a warp in it's kinetic field, he took careful aim, and fired. The Colossus staggered at the bullet entered the rotary control for it's front left leg, and it's shields failed.

"Now, Fitz!" he called, firing off a final overload to shock the machine so that it wouldn't be able to curl up on itself. A rocket propelled itself from behind the gray wall the blocked off Garrus' view of the engineer, and slammed into the Colossus in a kind of explosion Garrus hadn't seen in years. In a billow of smoke, fire, and cracking wires, the Colossus toppled over.

 _"Down and out!"_ Fitz shouted over the comms while Grunt's maniacal laughter echoed up to him. Garrus brought his rifle up and picked off a few of the remaining Geth, backing down when he near shot a hole clear through Grunt's shoulder as the Krogan played clean up.

"Reegar, you still alright over there?" he asked through his comms.

 _"Still breathing."_ the Marine confirmed. _"Just resting a little, I'll catch up. Check on Tali'Zorah, make sure she's alive."_

"Yeah." Garrus sprinted the rest of the way across the bridge, and met up with Fitz and Grunt, to find the latter punching the former in the shoulder.

"He looks like a pyjak, but my shotgun fired like a farting varren before! Now,it fires like a farting Thresher Maw! Ha ha ha! His mind is almost made Krogan!" Fitz staggered as the teenage Krogan slapped his back, letting out a cough and offering Grunt a dry, tiny bit forced smile.

"Yeah, try not to break our farting gunsmith, will you? We kind of need him to fix our ship." Garrus commented, looking up at the door, frowning. "Have you managed to make contact with her yet?"

 _"No, but I managed to make contact with_ you _."_ Tali's voice floated in through the comms, and he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. _"Just give me a second to open the door."_

After a few moments, during which Garrus took his helmet off, tired of the stinky, sweaty inside, the interface on the door turned green, and activated it...

To be met with a punch right to the bad side of his face. He let out a pained yelp as agony lanced through the raw spot, while a little voice in the back of his head chanted in a sing-song voice that he should have seen that one coming, because of course his only dextro friend on the Normandy was going to be mad at him for dropping off the grid and letting everyone think he was dead or kidnapped for two years...

"You bosh'tet! You wonderful bosh'tet, you're actually alive! I hate you!" thin, suited arms pulled his much larger body in for a hug before he could fully stop reeling from the punch. After one or two shocked heartbeats of just standing there, confused, he wrapped his own arms around her. _Two years, and I still say you need a few sandwiches, my friend._

"Where the heck did you-oh, Keelah!" she broke away, and he took her in fully for the first time as she spotted the gauze over where she'd punched his face. She'd gotten a new enviro-suite, and in his opinion, the lavender swirls suited her, but her eyes still glowed bright behind her mask. She grabbed him by the fringe, twisting his head to get a better look at his wound, forcing him to stoop low. "What happened to your face!?

"You know, it's really rude to grab a guy's fringe, you know. It's also a little painful, because, you know, technically speaking you are yanking on a part of my skull, here..." he deflected. She let go, and, more gently this time, inspected his face, turning his head by gripping his chin. His instincts screamed at him to pull away, but he forced himself to relax, it was only Tali, and of course it would be concerning if she turned up with half her face melted off... not that he would be able to see it, but that was beside the poi-

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't do any damage did I? I didn't notice!" she stuttered, pulling her hands back, wringing them in that Tali-ish way of her. Relieved that he didn't have to bend down any more,(because Turains really couldn't duck) he shook his head.

"No harm done. And, let's be fair here, I kind of deserve it after disappearing singing 'F U galaxy' all the way." he admitted.

"No worries; it take a missile to put a dent in this Turian. A fist isn't going to do much." Fitz added helpfully. _Dammit, Fitz!_ A few seconds of silence... annnnd...

"A MISSILE!? GARRUS VAKARIAN!" The small Quarian roared with a volume contradicting her size. He immediately shrank back.

"It was just a tiny one!" he sputtered. "And there were mercs! Fifty of them!" he tried lamely. She reached around and yanked his fringe again. "Alright, alright, maybe it was more like five hundred, but it was only the one gunship and the couches were filled with holes, so i had to jump, and those Blue Suns pellet eaters really love their overkill!"

"You... you... we were worried sick about you, and you've been running around taking missiles to the face? ALONE!?" she shouted.

"Hey, it's a pretty cool scar." Grunt pointed out. Tali made a growling sound at him that cause the young Krogan to jump, fumbling with his shotgun.

"Look, Tals, i'll tell you the whole story, but... after we get off this oven rock, please?" Garrus pleaded. She heaved a sigh, letting go of his fringe.

"Fine. Just let me grab my data." she told him.

"What's it about?" he asked, following her deeper into the ancient building.

"Haestrom's sun. It's ageing faster than it should be." she explained, tapping a few buttons on an old console.

"Tali... we saw a lot of bodies out there. Was this data worth it?" he tipped his head to the side, concerned, reading her body language. Since Quarians spent a majority of their lives with their faces hidden, they were more expressive in motion than other species, and it was something the Normandy crew had picked up on. _All those Marines dead... and for what? Data on a star in the middle of Geth territory, a star that the fleet will likely never have access to, not for a long time..._

"The fleet sent us out here, so it must be." she reasoned, shrugging. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned her head to face him.

"I wasn't asking what the Fleet think, I was asking what Tali'Zorah vas whatever-your-new-name-is thinks." he told her, giving her a cheesy Turian grin.

"'Vas Neema'. I'm 'vas Neema' now." she told him with a snort of amusement, before looking back at the console. "And... it better be worth it. It better be. I just watched my whole team _die_ \- some of them my friends."

"Not your whole team, ma'am." a voice rasped from the doorway, they turned, and Tali gasped at the sight of Kal'Reegar leaning against the wall, one hand pressing at the wound in his abdomen. He limped forwards, using the stone for support. And Fitz lunged forwards to help him when his body gave a haphazard lurch.

"Kal, you're still alive!" she exclaimed. She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Garrus, I have to get him back to the ship, it has a clean room..."

"I've got a doctor on my crew, he can help." he told her, bring Syrus up on the comms. "Syrus? We need Mordin, and maybe you to hook up with a Quarian ship in orbit, we've got wounded and their medical officer is dead."

"I'm not _dying_!" Reegar protested. "I'm perfectly fine, sir... er-ma'am... whatever..."

 _"We'll dock on your signal."_ Syrus confirmed.

"You are _not_ fine, you're delirious." Fitz countered.

"He looks okay to me." Grunt yawned. A rumble filled the air. "Anyone else hungry?"

* * *

 **Grunt, Grunt, Grunt. Poor, hungry Grunt.**

 **Yeah...**

 **Anyway, back to pretending my last update wasn't nearly two months ago... I kind of hit a wall with this chapter, and I'm still trying to get over it. It may, yet again, be a while until my next update.**

 **Alright, seeing I've got a load of reviewers this time... I'ma go the Path of Jayfeatther and respond directly, like so;**

 **ShadowMechanic- I'm glad you like it, I still write when I have time; no worries.**

 **IllusiveGirl0- Glade you like it, and Legion is my favorite character in the series. I feel like they developed him better than they did EDI, because, unlike her, he had to go out an learn all this stuff about organics himself, where as she 'makes herself nice', and it's because of this he, not his alternate replacement, gains full consciousness at the very end.**

 **jsm1978- Yup, everybody loves my Legion segments, apparently!**

 **This Is Sarcasm- You know, you surprise me sometimes. Yeah, I always felt there was a sort of distance between Legion and his people towards the end in-game. Just look at the line "based on empirical data, THEY are not", now 'we are not', which kind of implies that, at that moment, Legion was trying to distance himself from his people and their actions as possible, and maybe felt a little bit betrayed by what they'd done to him. After all, it would be pretty hard to trust someone who hooked you up to a Reaper to enslave your entire race.**

 **seabo76- Nah, he ain't dead yet. And the 'Talibration's confirmed' moment in ME3 was one of the most satisfying moments in video gaming for me, aside from the battle with Argorok in Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, because let's face it; that. Was . _EPIC_.**

 **And yeah, I know it took a while to reveal Fitz was biotic. Like he said; there was never a good time to mention it. he's just the 'guy the fixes the ship', and he's good about it, too. You don't really need biotics to fix a ship. To address his appetite... my personal head canon is, the more a biotic uses their powers, the more they have to eat, for calorie intake. And since Fitz doesn't really use his biotic that much, he doesn't' have the monster appetite most of his kind do.**

 **Plus Ka'Reegar. I love Kal!^^**

 **And who has met Vorn in MEA? When Jayfeattheris Awesome first saw him, she was all like 'oh my gosh; it's Martin Anton in Krogan form'(don't ask who Martin is please don't). And when Kesh started dissing him, I was all like, "weeeeelll, if you don't want him... my Ryder is totally available, and she has a thing for geeks."**

 **VORN FOR LIFE! He's amazing and I hope we see more of him in the future. Favorite MEA character so far, Jaal and Liam are still fighting over second place, but that moment when you hit a bump in low gravity and Drack laughs like a maniac was pretty glorious... so I'll shove him into the fighting pit too. Never did romance anyone, mostly because sex scenes are NOT my cup of tea, at ALL. Why does every game these days have to have them?**

 **Though I was, at a few points, tempted to romance Jaal just to save him from Peebee; they are just... NOT RIGHT for each other, I am SORR-rry but NOOOOOOOOOO-**

 **I'm done ranting now.**

 **Also, the Destiny 2 trailers were just FRABJOUS b bn , ,0b rf r fyu *** **it was at this point Jayfeatther slapped my keyboard repeatedly because she knew I was ranting**

 **Anyway, that' all for now!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	19. The Collectors

_In which the threat is finally realized..._

* * *

 _Alternatively..._

 _Shepard sat slumped over at her desk, head in one hand. She was still shaking off the heat from Haestrom, and though she was glad to have Tali back at her side, the emotions she'd pent up since Horizon had finally gripped her in full._

"Commander Shepard, Garrus is requesting entrance to your cabin." _EDI informed her. She sat up, sniffing, trying to wipe away the tears. The door opened, and her Turian friend stepped in, looking around a little before spotting her._

 _"Hey, Shepard, Tali was wondering if we could make a stop when the Initiative launches? You know, pull out a few drinks, toast to guys who might be killed in dark space when the Reapers intercept them..." he started, pausing when he took her in. "You okay?"_

 _"Yeah, fine. Just uh, Horizon, catching up with me. I'm exhausted." she said, trying to pull up a smile, and failing. He rested one hand on her shoulder._

 _"Shepard... Kaiden was out of line. He was mad, he was seeing someone he thought was dead, and she was wearing the colors of the people who killed her unit with Thresher Maws, people who, quite frankly, even_ I _don't trust, not even after spending time with them." the Turian said. "That's one of the reasons it's good to have Tali back, and it's one of the reasons I keep three knives hidden in my armor plating."_

 _He added that last part in a hushed voice so EDI wouldn't overhear. That stupid AI was always listening to everything, in every room, and it unsettled Shepard to no end. She took a deep breath._

 _"Yeah, I get it. But I... I got a message from him while we were groundside on Haestrom..." normally, she wouldn't show something like this to anyone, but this was Garrus, the person she would trust with disarming a nuclear bomb, shooting a Thresher Maw between the eyes, being her best friend, and kicking important butts as needed. She watched his expression carefully as he read through the message on the data pad, and he scoffed._

 _"Alright, I always knew Kaiden wasn't the brightest, but mentioning a current date while trying to fix things with your ex is just plain stupid. Especially if that ex has lost two years." he handed the pad back angrily. " Can we go back to Horizon, please? I need to throw him out an airlock."_

 _She gave a wry chuckle. "Nah, let him flounder."_

 _They stood in silence for a little while, before Garrus grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of her cabin. "You know what, let's get you a hamster. You were always complaining that you couldn't have a pet on the original Normandy, lets break protocol and get a hamster!"_

 _"Hold on! I haven't even thought of a name yet!" she protested as her friend flung her into the elevator as she tried not to laugh._

 _"Well, I guess you'll have to come up with on on the go, then!" he chirped cheerily, pressing the button to bring them down to the CIC as an uncontrollable smile plastered itself onto Shepard's face against her will. Why did her Turian friend always have to know exactly what to do?_

* * *

"Kal's stable. Our pilot is going to take him back to the Fleet." Tali said as the two of them sat down in a room aboard the ship the Quarians had come on.

"Him? But not you?" Garrus asked, trying to hide the hopefulness in his voice. "Won't they be angry?"

"I found some things about the missing Human colonies, and Anderson said you were looking into that. I want to help. I... well, I _need_ to help, and I'm not sure if I can look at the Admirality after what happened down there." she told him, nodding, and he felt a surge of gratitude. "I've spent the last two years giving up on warning about the Reapers. It's time to stop."

 _And I've spent the last two years running away from the problem. Now, it's time to rush the problem head-on._ Not for the first time, he had to squash down a feeling of guilt. Shepard had died, and instead of keeping up the campaign against the Reapers, he'd gone to Omega and played vigilante. Boy, had he paid for that.

Sidonis' face flashed in his mind's eye, and he tried to banish it. He already had those vengeful wishes haunting his dreams; he didn't need them bothering the waking world as well.

"Yeah, he messaged me about that. I haven't had time to look at what he sent." he said to her.

"We can go over it once we get back on your ship." she nodded. "But first things first... your face. The whole story, and you're going to tell me where you've been, and what happened with Shepard. Now."

So, he told her. About his squad, about Sidonis. About finding the bodies, about the two-day fight with all the mercs on Omega at once, about the agony of being hit with the missile. Waking up on the Tin Can, meeting with Wrex, taking on Cerberus, retrieving Shepard, the state she had been in...

It was the first time he'd told it _all_. Even with the Captain, he'd simplified things, left parts out. But Tali... he knew Tali. She wasn't Kaiden, or Shepard, but she was a close friend, someone he could really let it all out too. And... it felt good. It felt good to finally let someone else hear it all, like he'd been filled with acid and it was finally draining out of him.

"And... that's it." he finished with a heavy sigh, blinking rapidly to try and banish the UV-resistant film that had formed over his eyes. Tali had moved her chair next to his, and now had one arm stretched over his back, albeit a little awkwardly, due to their size differences.

"You _bosh'tet_. I'm supposed to be mad at you." she whispered, pulling him into a full hug. Normally, he wasn't really the big hugging type, but he supposed this one was okay.

"You always were bad about that." he chuckled, pulling away from her. "But it's welcome to have a friendly face at last. Well... a friendly face behind the mask, anyway."

"Do you have any leads on Sidonis?" she asked.

"None so far." he shook his head, a flash of anger, as usual, flickering through him at the mention of the other Turian's name. "But I've got a few old contacts who are keeping their ears to the ground. In the mean time, I've been trying to investigate the colonies."

"You mentioned that Cerberus list, you were on it?" she inquired, head tipped to the side.

"No, 'Archangel' was on it. They didn't know he was me." he shook his head again. "But you were on there, under 'potential recruits'. We failed to save Okeer, and Zaeed Massani and Kasumi Goto have dropped off the grid, according to Rogue. So far, Mordin's the only one we've been able to keep safe, and that's just because he right down the street from me."

"What about Grunt? You managed to get to him on time." Tali pointed out.

"He's one of Okeer's experiments, grown in a test tube. He's a wild card, and Cerberus never knew about him." Garrus shook his head. "Have I mentioned how small our ship is? I'm not even sure there'll be room for you... and we don't have a clean room."

"I can manage." she told him offhandedly.

"I hope so." he muttered, picking at the edge of the table. If Tali got hurt, treating her would be... complicated.

* * *

"Okay, people, this is what we've got." They were all gathered, in a rather cramped fashion, in Mordin's little 'med bay'. Rogue had organized everything that Tali and Anderson had supplied, and come up with a presentation.

"These ugly pellet eaters," she switched to a slide showing blurry footage of some humanoid figure with a Human hanging limply over it's shoulder, "are not bigfoot. They're what's been taking our people, and as you can see, though we have access to all the technological wonders of this day and age, we still can't make a decent camera."

"Hmmm. Visual blurry, but-"

"Ahem, Mordin, we raise our hand when we want to speak. This is a small ship with very few opinions." Rogue corrected. The Salarian, who, like most of the others, sat criss-cross on the floor, let out a weary sigh and raised his hand. "Yes, the old Salarian at the front?"

"Visual is blurry, distorted, but figure matches profile I've seen before-work with STG-theories, rumors, called 'Collectors'." he said rapidly, shifting position slightly.

"'Collectors'? I heard the term passed around once or twice on Omega." Garrus commented.

"Right, so... What are 'Collectors', exactly?" Grunt asked, with his hand in the air. "And when can I shoot them?"

"Grunt, you're supposed to raise your hand before you speak, and I have to pick on you, or it doesn't count." Rogue sighed. "The young Krogan gave her an incredulous look, and she turned to Syrus. "Dude, scratch Grunt's question from the manuscript, it doesn't count."

"We... don't have a manuscript."

"Then get one! Record the session!"

"Can we focus?" Garrus rolled his eyes. "Seriously, what _is_ a Collector?"

"Race from beyond Omega-4 relay." Mordin explained. "Rarely seen, considered myth by some. Rumors that they offer strange trade in exchange for technology-advance, highly advanced, but why Humans?"

"A species nobody knows stuff about? Trading advanced tech? How advanced?" Rouge asked.

"If civilizations take average 50,000 years to mature to Reaper desire, Collector technology outstrips the Protheans in some aspect, based off few samples known." The Salarian told them.

"Wouldn't that mean they survived the last Reaper invasion? How?" Tali exclaimed.

"Well, nobody can go through the Omega-4 Relay. But, the relays are Reaper tech... maybe the Collectors didn't survive the Reapers; they probably; work for them." Garrus suggested.

"Nobody's raising their hand!" Rogue huffed. "I tried to create an organized environment!"

Grunt raised his hand, and Rouge waved her own at him. "See, this charming lad knows how it's done. Yes, Grunt?"

"I don't have any imprints on these 'Reaper' or 'Collector' things. Not even how to kill 'em. You guys talk about them all the time, but how do we know they're real? And what's with the Humans?"

Rogue switched slides, to show a rather lovely image captured of Sovereign blowing up. "As far as the public is aware, the Reapers are a story that Saren used to control the Geth. That this" she tapped Sovereign, "Is just a highly advanced Geth ship. But it's not. It's a Reaper. And it's very, very real. As for how to kill them? Well... just do what the Fifth Fleet did and you'll be fine."

"Alright, but the Collectors? How did they freeze everyone, why aren't those people fighting back?" Syrus inquired. Rogue looked at him witheringly, likely because he didn't raise his hand. She switched slides, to another image of Freedom's Progress, and zoomed in on one of the many particles that seemed to be dotted around the area.

"These look like bugs, right? Well, watch what the raw footage shows us." she switched over to the footage of the same area. Several of the Humans on-screen pointed up at something, then began to run away, but one by one they began to freeze, and each time one of the froze... something small seemed to buzz away from them. Rogue gestured to the now-paused vid. "Ta-da. The bugs freeze you."

"So... how do we counter that? If we're going to fight the Collectors, they'll have those bugs with them, and we need a way to stop them from freezing us." Fitz pointed out.

"Maybe biotics?" Tali suggested.

"We've only got the one." Syrus shook his head.

"More advanced shields?" Sal added his own input.

"Even colonies have some soldiers on them; I don't think shields did them much luck." Garrus said. "What we need is to find out how they freeze you, and find a way to prevent it. Mordin, do you think you could do something?"

"If I look closely at the raw data, might be able to come up with some sort of countermeasure." he nodded with a small smile. "Without a member of Swarm to study, however, research will be slow... problematic. Also, won't be able to test countermeasure."

"Seriously, guys, why _Humans_? They're squishy, loud, and you've got no natural weapons whatsoever, what's so special about them that the Collectors are taking whole colonies?" Grunt blurted, obviously irritated the question was going unanswered.

"Humans more genetically diverse them most species." Mordin told him, taking a deep sniff. "Useful for experimentation."

Rouge and Fitz looked generally uncomfortable at that.

"What kind of experiments, you reckon?" the engineer asked.

"If it's done by Reapers... probably something we'd rather not know about." Garrus commented, his fringe spiking briefly, disconcerted by the revelation. "But whatever it is, we have to stop it. Some way, somehow, we can't let this go down."

"Yeah, we're eight people-" Fitz was cut off by a mrrow of protest-"Okay, we're eight people _and_ one cat on a rust-bucket that I've kept together with hope an duct tape. The cause is noble, but all this time I don't think you've asked yourselves; can we actually practice what we preach? Do we have the resources to do that?"

Rogue looked down. They had kind of all jumped into this. They were looking, trying, but without resources, without money, there was little they could do. Why did it cost so much credits just to save the Galaxy? You would think that there wouldn't be a price on the survival of organic life.

"No. Not yet. But we can _find_ resources." Rogue started. "We're saving the people on Certech's list, we're stealing their 'save the world' team. And who says we need government funding to save the galaxy? Garrus did just find on Omega."

"Until my team got killed and I took a missile to the face." he pointed out.

"Hmmm, point made. Okay, so, the Council won't help, probably can't count on the Alliance, because they haven't done whoopty-do since the attacks began, and we certainly can't count on any of the alien governments; I mean, who would dump money on an effort for another species? No offense."

"None taken. Honestly, I have to agree; if I asked the Hierarchy for help, they'd probably do nothing once they heard it was a 'Human problem'." Garrus shook his head. "We've got friends on Tuchanka, and that's about it."

"Hey, I'd rather have _friends_ on Tuchanka than the alternative." Rogue raised her hands. "As for what we're going to do... well, we've done well so far. And if we keep things up, we'll find a way through Omega 4. All we have to do is keep digging. And I bet you if we do, keep digging, we're bound to find something. but first things first, we need to find a way to counteract those swarm freezers. if we're going to fight Collectors, at _any_ point-and mark my words there _will_ be a point where we have to face them- we need to be able to move around without winding up like these Colonists."

"We should warn Wrex, too." Garrus pointed out. "If his new patrols _do_ come across an attack in progress, they won't stand a chance."

"Right, so let's do that." Rogue nodded. She clapped her hands together. "But, in the meantime, there've been reports of strange happenings on a backwater mining planet called Zorya, and we need to get our newest guest settled in."

"What sort of 'strange happenings'?" Tali asked. Rogue pulled up an image on the veiwscreen. It was a blurry photo, obviously taken by an Omnitool while running, _not_ the best picture. They all peered closer. "What... is that?"

There was something moving through jungle undergrowth. "Looks like some kind of mech, maybe? Should we really waste our time on this?" Garrus asked, looking up at the Human.

"Maybe, maybe not. But traffic across all the big relays is going to be backed up all this week, with Andromeda launching. They've got a few closed so they can get the arks through, and there will be people from all over the place trying to find alternate ways to the launch point for the send-off. We've kind of got nothing better to do." she shrugged. "That... and a few people claim it's a Geth running around out there."

"Now that you mention it... it kind of does look like it might be one." Tali nodded slowly. "the picture's too blurred to be sure, though, and it doesn't look like any Geth model I've ever seen. One that size shouldn't have a shoulder-mounted relay, if it _is_ was it looks like; usually only Primes that have those."

"Maybe it's a new model? An experiment?" Syrus suggested. "Maybe they realized the stuff they used two years ago wasn't working too well, upgraded to better hardware."

"Maybe." Mordin sniffed. "Should investigate, if Geth sneaking around system again."

"But you said it yourself Rogue; it's a backwater mining planet. Why would the Geth go there?" Grunt asked. She merely shook her head and shrugged.

"No freaking idea, Grunt. No. Freaking. Idea."

* * *

"So... interesting crew you have here." Tali commented as Garrus and Fitz showed her around the engineering room, often call The Hole, which Fitz spent his time in. It was nearly as hot as Haestrom in here, and Garrus always wondered how the Human managed it.

"Yeah... it is." Fitz said quietly. "Now, I've got everything set up a certain way, so if you don't mind I'd like it if you kept your hands off of most of it, at least until you've gotten to know the systems. Forgive my paranoia."

"It's okay, I don't like people poking around my stuff either." The Quarian nodded.

" _Keelah se'lai_ to that." Fitz muttered as he leaned into a vent with a tool in hand, his voice inaudible to Tali, though Garrus' sharper hearing could pick it up. He shook his head. _Still hasn't forgiven us for letting strangers work on his ship back at the Citadel..._

Suddenly, Tali let out an 'eep' of fright. He turned to see Dexirius had finally decided to introduce himself, rearing up to place his paws on her leg.

" _Keelah_ , what is this thing?" she asked. He couldn't tell if she like the kitten or not, and for some reason, that made him nervous.

"That's, um, Dexirius. Dex for short. He's my... er, he's my pet cat." he told her skittishly. _Please like him!_ He could still remember the day Liara tried to adopt a pet tarantula, and it had _not_ sat well with the Quarian engineer. She bent down hesitantly, and pat the kitten's head. Dexirius let out a tiny mewl and leaned into her hand demandingly. He wished more than ever he could see her face so he could read her expression.

"He purrs like a Turian!" she giggled. He felt his fringe spike with embarrassment.

"We don't _purr_. We rumble." he corrected.

"You totally purr!" she laughed, as Dexirius wound around her hand. She carefully gripped him on both sides, bringing the kitten up to her chest. "Okay, this guy is just adorable."

"Really? You know he has claws, right?" Garrus pointed out, secretly relieved.

"Who says I can't like things that have claws?" she asked, as Dexirius rubbed the top of his head against her mouthpiece, which was probably a very efficient scratching implement for a cat. "Our suites are made of high-compact wire mesh, layers of it. It takes more than some little cat claws to puncture it. A Varren might be able to manage it, but not this little guy."

"Are you saying my cat isn't as tough as a Varren?" he challenged playfully, mandibles flaring in a smile.

"No. I'm saying he's way more _my_ kind of pet than a Varren." she teased. "By the way... has it been good for you? Having a pet, I mean, after everything that's happened recently? I think remember reading somewhere that animals were good for reducing stress."

"He's helped a little." Garrus nodded, closing the distance between them. He scratched Dexirius under the chin, feeling the deep vibrations coming from the tiny body. "This ship is no place for a pet, though. Half the time, I'm afraid Grunt is going to step on him. The other half, I'm afraid he'll bake in here along with Fitz."

"Hey!" came the muffled protest.

"I'm sure once we save enough people we can get a better ship." Tali joked.

"Yeah, maybe... but if it, ever becomes too uncomfortable for you Tals, just give the word, and I'll take you to the nearest port." he offered, secretly willing her to decline. To his relief, she shook her head. Good. He didn't think he would be able to stand not having a familiar face around any more.

"No. I'm here to stay, Garrus. You need me, the colonies need me... and the Collectors need a shotgun to the face." the Quarian stated. _She's changed,_ he realized. Then again, so had he. _I guess that's what two years does to you._

"Good. I'm glad your back, Tali. It's been rough." he admitted. Already he felt better just knowing she'd have his back again. And for the first time... he felt like it was possible. That this scraggly crew could become a team, a team like the one on the Normandy, a team like the one on Omega-

 _Don't go there._ He pushed back memories of red lights, red blood, and dead faces.

"I know. So let's try to make the rest of the ride as smooth as possible." Tali vowed.

"You know I try my best!" Fitz called out. Garrus rolled his eyes, and Tali chuckled, while Dexirius yawned. With an old team member at his side once more... it felt like they had a chance. _Next stop, Zorya._ And whatever it was the Geth were doing there.

* * *

 **Three Days Later..**

The Mobile Platform had made a grievous mistake. All 1,183 runtimes were trying to figure out just how things had gone so wrong. Perhaps it was because they had miscalculated. Perhaps the action that had revealed it's existence had been completely unnecessary, but it had been yet another involuntary movement, that squeeze of the trigger that had killed the violent Human.

Or perhaps, the precipitating events had been caused by the fact it had crash-landed here in the first place? Minor damage to the shuttle's hull from an asteroid chase(some Eclipse merc group ships had detected it and open fire) had lead to the necessity of setting down for repairs. It had discovered a fuel refinery of some sort, and witnessed a Blue Suns takeover.

If it had never landed on this planet, it would never have seen that. It would therefore never have seen, through the scope of it's rifle, an older Human beating a younger worker into submission. It wouldn't have seen a stranger burst out of the bushes and attack older man with his biotics pushing him away from the younger one. It wouldn't have seen ten guns point at the biotic.

And it certainly wouldn't have pulled the trigger and punched a hole through the older man's head with the bullet.

Now, it and it's runtimes were here... dangling from a tree, in a microtech net made from some sort of ultra-resistant fiber. Auditory sensors could pick up more Blue Suns coming in their direction, coming to seize the platform and it's resources. There was only one hope, one option, one consensus;

 _Make this organic trust us._

"Help us." staring back at him, was a young Human male with glowing blue eyes, and auditory implants.

* * *

 **Fitz, help him! He's just a widdle Geth! And I'm still going the way of Jayfeatther. You know, I think I'll just start replying to reviews like this all the time.**

 **IllusiveGirl0: Yeah, I really tried with Grunt. As for the Collosus... well, this is a book, not a game. Headcanon is, after a number of overloads, warps and holes can appear in shielding, openings where bullets can slip through.**

 **MrFry01: Glad you liked it, I think that's everybody's favorite line now!**

 **jsm1978: That's my matto. Yeah, Andromeda was kind of overwhelming after all the hype about it. Over half the characters are gay or bisexual(as apposed to the real-life ratio of gay-to-straight people), we still had problems like derping eyes(but nothing like on ME1 Ashley's level), and Sloane's head just ain't screwed on right. Literally, look at the glitch compilations; it's all over the place. As for the OC's don't worry, we'll get to spend some time with each of them as the story goes on. There are a lot of characters to manage, and unfortunately, the only time I'll have to make for some of them is with the 'loyalty missions'.**

 **Whew, okay, so, don't murder me with how late this is, I've been busy. Busy with school, busy playing Destiny(managed to fill out my AoT record book), busy buying a new Intuos Wacom tablet and jumping through tech hoops... really just been busy. Especially in May; I got so freaking HYPED during the Destiny reveal stream... I actually skipped class on the pretense of having to fill out a report in order to watch it. Don't worry, that day we were doing a super boring 'acceptance' exercise instead of actuall ywork that day. The only thing I need to accept... is the FREAKING ARCSTRIDER SUBLASS! BOOOOOOOM! I can't wait!**

 **And, for the first time ever, I'm excited to play as a Titan. I'm finally going to be able to fill out my Captain America dreams! Dawnblade... meh, I can just equip an exotic sword, pop Radiance and do basically the same thing. Yawn. At least they improved Golden gun a little... the only subclass that made me cringe more the Defender...**

 **Anyway, I'm done ranting about a game you've probably never heard of, but I haven't updated anything since the livestream and it needed to get out.**

 **Hold on to your socks! Or just hold on to Socks the kitten, because Legion is incoming! I just can't keep this guy away from the Vakarian crew any longer it will literally kill me if I have to wait until the IFF mission to bring him in. That's not happening until near the end of the fic, so yeah. But here we go, and don't expect another update for a while because I'm horrible distracted!^^**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


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